Desperately Wanted: One Family That Gives a Damn
by Emery3842
Summary: Dean has always sacrificed everything for his family, can they return the favor? Dean doesn't tell Caleb that he is hunting injured. When he ends up in the hospital, will John drop a lead on the demon? Will Sam risk Jess finding out about his family? Or will Dean be left to fend for himself? Sam/Jess, and tons of Winchester family drama and outsider perspectives. Pre-pilot
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Hey everyone! I know that I have other stories in the works and that I have been, quite possibly, the worst updater ever. To make excuses, I just finished my senior year of college and the thought of writing more, on top of completing two theses (the joys of being a double major), was unimaginable. So, this is my attempt to get back into the swing of writing. I know it is outside the fandoms of my other stories, but I am hoping that it inspires me to continue them.

Enjoy!

* * *

Dean withheld a grunt of pain as he tossed his duffle into the trunk of the Impala. This latest hunt had been hell. The past two weeks were spent in the wilderness of Montana, chasing after the newest baddie. One creepy ass, run-down farmhouse, three broken ribs, and a hit to the head that had left the room spinning and the bastard was finally dead. Needless to say, Dean was looking forward to a few days of recovery time.

"Dean!"

Dean jerked his head up and winced as he slammed it on the trunk of the Impala. "Son of a bitch," he hissed, clutching the back of his head as he turned towards the speaker. "Yeah?"

"I just got off the phone with Caleb, he needs some help on a job in Northern California. I told him that you could be there tomorrow."

Dean looked on in disbelief as his dad strode confidently towards his oversized black truck and set his own bag in the back. He was still holding the back of his head, his eyes wide, and his mouth moving almost comically as he fumbled for a response, when John finally looked up at him.

"Is that a problem?" John asked, his tone challenging and one of his eyebrows raised.

Instantly lowering his hand and straightening his body, like a puppet master grabbing the strings of a puppet, Dean replied with a, "No, sir."

"Good," John stated, going to open his truck door. "Call me when it is finished." John didn't wait for a response from Dean because he knew what it would be. Unlike Sam, Dean didn't question orders, he obeyed them, trusting John to know what was right.

Dean lifted a hand in goodbye as John pulled out of the rundown motel's parking lot. He heaved a sigh before he remembered his injured ribs. "Damn it," he mumbled, thinking that he should have had his dad wrap them before he disappeared again.

Pulling open the squeaky driver's door of the Impala, Dean thought about his dad's assignment. While he trusted that his dad wouldn't send him if it wasn't necessary, it would have been really nice to have a few days off. He had one done over on him in the past few hours and if he was honest about his injuries, he was probably sporting a mild concussion...but when was he honest about injuries?

He allowed his body to drop onto the seat of the Impala and pulled out his cell phone. Scrolling down to "C", he clicked on Caleb's number.

Dean only had to wait two rings before Caleb's voice came over the phone.

"Yeah?"

"Caleb, it's Dean. What's your location?" Dean asked, getting straight to the point.

Caleb rattled off coordinates for a small town in Northern California. "John said you could get here by tomorrow afternoon?" Caleb asked, checking to see what time he should expect the young hunter.

Calculating the distance in his head, Dean figured that he could make it by tomorrow if he drove through the night, "Yeah, I can be there."

Caleb let out an almost inaudible sigh of relief, "Good, this one has been giving me a hell of a time."

"What is it?" Dean was surprised, Caleb was one of the best hunters he knew.

"I am not quite sure, it has been giving me the run around. And the body count is starting to get up there."

Rubbing a hand over his face, Dean inserted the keys into the ignition. "I will call when I get into town and we can go over everything."

"Sounds good, get here in one piece."

"Aww, Caleb, I didn't know you cared," Dean quipped.

Caleb chuckled, "You, I might miss for a solid second, then I would remember what it was like to deal with that mouth of yours. On the other hand, that car of your's..." he trailed off.

Dean smirked, smart enough to realize how much trouble his ribs would give him if he laughed. "You're a real comedian, Caleb. If this whole hunting thing doesn't pan out, at least you know of another career path you can try."

"Just get your smartass ass down here," Caleb ended the call with a smile on his face.

Dean snapped his cell phone closed and turned the keys over, smiling a bit as the Impala rumbled to life. "Let's go, Baby."

* * *

"Dean Winchester, you get uglier every time I see you," Caleb drawled out as he sauntered over to Dean leaning against the Impala, which was sitting in the parking lot of the local diner.

"You're one to talk. Tell me, has Rogaine contacted you yet?" Dean countered, his tone and facial expressions deadpan.

Caleb managed to keep a straight face for all of two seconds before he was laughing loudly and clapping Dean on the shoulder, "Good to see you, kid!"

"You too, Caleb," Dean replied with a warm smile. And he was being honest, it was good to see Caleb.

Dean had first met Caleb when he was about ten. Him, his dad, and Sammy had been holed up at Pastor Jim's while his dad had recovered from a hunt gone wrong. It was in the middle of the second week when Caleb had stopped by. At first, Dean had been weary of the young hunter. He didn't trust anybody at first, especially not if they had the potential to hurt Sammy. However, as Caleb had worked on research at Pastor Jim's, Dean had grown to like the man. What had finally won young Dean over was that one day, Sam had been running down the stairs when he tripped and fell down the rest. Dean had watched helplessly as Sam's six year old body tumbled down the stairs, reaching the bottom with a heart-wrenching cry. John and Jim were in the library at the time, so they didn't know of Sam's accident. Dean had immediately thrown the small knife he was playing with on the table and rushed over to Sam. Before he could reach him though, Caleb had come running down the stairs and was checking Sam over. It didn't take long for the two of them to quite Sam's tears and make sure nothing was seriously wrong. Afterwards, Caleb disappeared into the kitchen, only to come out with two rootbeer floats; winning both of the boys over.

Since then, Dean's fondness and respect for the man had only grown. They had been on a few hunts with John and a few on their own as well. They worked well as a team, which meant that Dean was hoping this could be wrapped up as soon as possible so that he could get his R&R in.

"Let's get some coffee and some grub and I'll fill you in," Caleb said, ending Dean's reminiscing.

Caleb watched Dean as he carefully lowered himself down into the booth. He pretended not to notice as Dean's breath left him in a puff of air and a slight sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. Caleb knew that Dean had just come off of a hunt, but John had sworn that he was fit to be in the field.

After they got some coffee and food ordered, Caleb decided to attempt to get Dean to tell him how he was feeling. "So, how'd the case with John go?"

Dean blinked almost owlishly as he took in Caleb's question, "It went well, took almost two weeks though."

"Hmm.." Caleb pondered, trying to figure out if Dean was up for this hunt.

As if he knew he was being judged, Dean straightened up in his seat and leveled Caleb with a stare, "So, what are we looking at?"

* * *

*12 hours later*

Caleb cursed as he pressed on the accelerator of his beat up truck. He glanced over at Dean, he was slouching against the door with his long legs stretched out in front of him, like he couldn't quite control where they went.

"Dean?" Caleb questioned, accelerating even more as Dean's eyes began to droop closed. "Stay with me, kid. I'm going to get you some help."

Dean coughed weakly as he tried to hide the agony his body was currently putting him through. It felt like he was drowning and burning all at the same time. He could belatedly hear Caleb shouting his name again, but as he tried to respond, all that issued forth were increasingly wet gasps of pain.

"Damn it, Dean! Don't you dare die in my truck!" Caleb yelled, his fear obvious in his voice.

The last thought that went through Dean's head before everything went black was that Caleb's truck was the last place in the world he wanted to die.

* * *

Caleb sat in the waiting room of St. Bartholomew's Hospital. He had tried to get an update on Dean, but so far, no one knew anything. With only slight hesitation, Caleb dug through the pockets of Dean's leather jacket and after a little searching found his cell phone. Flipping the screen open, he quickly found John's phone number and pressed call. As usual with John, it went straight to voicemail.

"This is John Winchester, leave me a message."

"John," Caleb paused, mentally arguing with himself about how to go about informing John that his eldest was currently laying in a hospital, status mostly unknown. His first reaction was to give John a quick message, expressing the urgency. His next reaction was to lay into John about sending Dean off on a hunt while he was injured.

About thirty minutes after Caleb had pulled into the hospital and yelled for a doctor, someone had come out to give Caleb a quick update on Dean. Apparently he had been suffering from a concussion for the past three days and he had three broken ribs and one cracked one. His new injuries, caused by a fall through the floor of a second story (according to the tale Caleb spun, because who would believe a mythical monster had thrown Dean around like a rag doll), were mostly due to these preexisting injuries. The cracked rib, that would not have been a serious concern on its own, had shattered and punctured through one of Dean's lungs, effectively drowning Dean in his own blood. His originally mild concussion had become far worse and they were now worried about brain hemorrhaging. The only injury that was not a direct result of the old ones was a broken arm, which was really the least of their concerns at the moment.

Caleb knew that John loved his boys, he had seen it first hand. He was never easy on them, he was more commanding officer than father most of the time, but the love was still apparent. However, when Sam had run off to college, it had hit John hard. All of a sudden, all of John's focus was on the hunt, and Dean was his only remaining soldier. Caleb had notice Dean get a little bit harder each time they ran into one another, trying to be the best son to his father as he could be. And this...this shitty hospital in an even shittier town...was the result of that. Dean couldn't say no, couldn't disappoint his father, and for that, he was being operated on with only a tired hunter waiting to hear how he was doing.

Caleb felt a stab to his gut when he finished his mental attack on John...he was no better. He had guessed that Dean wasn't at the top of his game, but he was so eager for help, that he pushed that worry to the side and let Dean cover it up. He knew that the boy would never admit that he wasn't up for a hunt, he should have told Dean that he had it handled.

Realizing that more than one person had failed Dean, Caleb decided to take it easy on John. "John, Dean is hurt. He is in surgery at St. Bartholomew's Hospital. John...it's pretty bad. Call me when you get this."

Caleb ended the call and was about to put the phone away when a horrible idea popped into his head. Opening up the contact list once again, Caleb got to "S" and paused when 'Sammy' was highlighted. He shouldn't call, he knew that. Sam had abandoned his family, had cut off all ties, if Pastor Jim's information was correct. It had become common knowledge within their circle that Sam Winchester was not to be mentioned around John and Dean. With this knowledge...why the hell was his finger currently hovering over the call button?

Maybe he just couldn't forget the boy with shaggy brown hair that had followed Dean around, attempting to mimic his older brother's mannerisms. He certainly couldn't forget the way that Dean protected his younger brother. Or the way that his last hunt with Dean had fallen on Sam's birthday, and all day long Dean had fiddled with his phone, his fingers almost betraying his mind's orders to not give in and call. It was nearly midnight when he heard Dean slip into the bathroom with his phone in hand, like it was impossible for Sam's birthday to go by without a call from Dean, even if it was unwanted.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Caleb had pressed the call button.

* * *

**A/N: There is a bit more of this written and I do have a story plan for it if you guys think I should continue! Let me know!**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all for the reviews! I am really glad you guys are liking the story and taking the time to review. Also, two updates in two days? While I certainly don't guarantee this all the time, it is nice to get the next chapter out for you guys. Unfortunately for me, the easiest character for me to write is Dean and I currently have him hanging out in a hospital. However, I did get to play a bit more with Caleb, Sam, and Jess. I hope that Sam's reaction is fairly true to character and that you guys enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Before he could talk himself out of it, Caleb had pressed the call button. As the phone rang, he rationalized that if Sam did not express concern over Dean's current situation, then Caleb would keep the fact that he called to himself. But, if by some miracle, Sam was worried and wanted to be here for his brother, then he knew Dean would be thrilled if..._when _he woke up.

The ringing stopped as the call was picked up, jarring Caleb from his plan making.

"Hello?"

Caleb paused for a moment as a young woman's voice came over the phone. Unless college had changed Sam _a lot_ then this was probably a girlfriend. His thoughts were confirmed as he heard giggling and in the background a voice that was unmistakably Sam's, laughing and trying to get the phone. "Can I speak to Sam Winchester?"

"Who is it?" he could hear Sam asking in the background, complete with more giggling on the girl's part.

"May I ask who's calling?" She asked politely, restraining her giggles.

"Tell him its Caleb and to get his giant ass on the phone," he snapped out, his patience running a bit thin.

"He said his name's Caleb," he could hear her telling Sam. Apparently, that was all she needed to say because the sounds of their playful struggle seized immediately.

The silence that followed the girl's revelation was so heavy that it felt wrong to breath. "Jess, give me the phone," Sam said, his voice allowing for no questions.

Jessica blinked at the change in Sam and silently handed him the phone. He abruptly got off of the couch, where they had been sitting watching a movie before his phone had gone off and a playful struggle for it had ensued. Looking at Sam, it was like a flip had switched and she was seeing a whole different side of him that she never knew existed. Sam could be...intense sometimes. But this was different, he was tense and looked like he was ready to spring into action the moment someone shouted "go".

As he was striding into their bedroom, she could hear Sam asking, "Caleb, why are you calling me?"

Whatever Caleb had said, it couldn't be good news because Sam's determined stride faltered and he put his hand against the wall for support. With his eyes slammed shut and Sam took a slightly shuttering breath before he asked his next question. "Is he going..." he stopped abruptly as he tried to find the right words. "Caleb, is he..."

Caleb ignored the slight burning behind his eyes as he answered the question that Sam couldn't seem to voice. "I don't know, Sam. The doctors haven't told me anything new. Sam...I know you don't want to be in the life anymore, but Dean could really use you here."

Sam took the phone away from his ear for a moment and hung his head for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts and emotions as everything came barreling towards him like a train without breaks.

Jess took all of this in with concern. She had never seen Sam behave this way, so she had no idea what he needed of her. Standing up, she walked over to him and laid her hand on his arm. His entire body tensed and his eyes flew towards hers, almost as if he had forgotten she was in the apartment. Apparently, that was all he needed for the uncertainty to leave his eyes.

"Caleb, I can't do it, I can't be there," Sam blurted out before he could change his mind.

Caleb jumped up from the hard plastic chair and began pacing around the small waiting room. "What do you mean you can't be here!" he shouted, lowering his voice when the receptionist looked up in disapproval. He settled for growling into the phone, "Sam Winchester, now is not the time for you to be selfish. Your brother needs you, so get your ass in a car, start hitchhiking...hell, grow some god damn wings and fly here for all I care!"

Sam extracted his arm from underneath Jess's hand and continued his path towards their room. "I have worked too hard for this, Caleb." His voice dropped to a near whisper, a whisper that was filled with pain as he admitted, "I don't want back in and if I go, if I see him hurt, I don't know if I will be able to leave again."

Going into the kitchen, Jess tried not to eavesdrop, Sam was entitled to his privacy, but she couldn't help overhearing snippets of his conversation. She didn't understand them, in fact, they just added to the mystery of Sam's past.

Jess flinched slightly as Sam unexpectedly burst out, "Damn it, Caleb! I am not coming!" There was a pause before Sam continued, "I don't care! I am not ruining this, Caleb. I have a life here. He could have gotten out and he didn't. It's not my fault, why should I have to give up everything?"

Caleb checked the screen of Dean's phone to make sure that it was really Sam he had called. "Boy, I don't know what college has done to you, but it certainly hasn't improved you." Caleb told him, disappointment coating his voice. "If Dean pulls through this and he wonders where you are, I am going to tell him that I didn't think to get a hold of you. Better that than to know that his brother couldn't be bothered."

Before Sam could respond, Caleb ended the call. He was about to hurl the phone at the wall when he remembered that it was Dean's and that John was supposed to call him on it. Dropping his body back onto the hard chair, Caleb ran his hands over his face and looked at the emergency room doors. "Kid, you deserve better than us."

* * *

Jess waited as the silence in the bedroom stretched on for five minutes before going and hesitantly knocking on the door. "Sam?" She asked as she slowly creaked the door open.

She looked around the room but could not see him, so she figured that he had stepped into the bathroom. "Sam, are you okay?" She questioned through the door.

Jess jumped as the door flung open and Sam gave her what he thought to be a convincing smile. "I'm fine. Sorry about that, it was just an old family friend, got caught for drunk and disorderly and wanted me to come bail him out." Sam told the lie with as much conviction as possible, he figured that while the lie did not paint his past in a great light, it was better than the alternative.

Giving Sam a reassuring smile, Jess nodded, "It's fine. Do you want to go finish our movie?"

As they settled back onto the couch, Jess peeked at Sam out of the corner of her eye. She may have accepted his explanation, but that did not mean she fully believed it. When he had opened up the bathroom door, he had given her the 'I'm not fine, but I am going to pretend I am' smile that she had seen on him a couple of times, the last time being on his birthday. His eyes were also suspiciously red, as if he had spent the five minutes in the bathroom fighting back tears. But, while she wanted to help him, she knew better than to question him about what was really going on. Sam was like an open book most of the time, but when he wanted to keep something to himself, he turned into Fort Knox; no amount of questioning and pleading would get him to open up to her. In fact, it usually caused him to shut down even more. Curling into his side, she figured that he would tell her if he needed to, but until then, she would just silently support him.

* * *

Jess frowned in her sleep as she shifted around and couldn't find Sam. Cracking open her eyes, she remembered that they had fallen asleep on the couch, or at least, she had. Looking around the living room from her position, she could not see Sam, but then she heard noise by the front door. Getting up as quietly as possible, Jess made it to the hallway in time to see Sam silently slip out of the front door. Rationally, Jess knew that he could just be going for a walk, he sometimes liked to do that in the middle of the night. Something about being a night person. However, the way he left was more suspicious than him not wanting to wake her up. Throwing caution to the wind, Jess slipped on her jacket and shoes and exited the apartment.

As she took great care to go unnoticed by Sam, Jess realized that it was mostly unnecessary, Sam's determined stride was not breaking for anything. She ducked behind a bush as Sam entered the parking lot of the bar a couple of blocks away from their apartment. As she swatted at a spider's web, Jess felt utterly ridiculous. Here she was, crouched behind a bush as Sam went to get a drink. He was obviously just bothered by the earlier phone call and needed some time out of their place. She was about to sneak away from her hiding place when she saw Sam glance around nonchalantly as he strolled up to a non-descript Honda.

"What is he doing?" She mumbled quietly to herself as she saw him pull a slim case from his back pocket. His actions were covered up by his body, but when he opened the Honda's door, she quickly connected the dots. Unable to sit in the bushes any longer, Jess got up and made her way into the parking lot. Sam was about to fold his body into the car when Jess softly called out, "Sam!"

Sam froze, like a deer that knew it was in the crosshairs of a rifle scope. He whipped his head around to take in Jess's approach and then quickly glanced around the parking lot to make sure that they were alone.

"Jess, what are you doing here?" He asked her, trying to keep the fear from his voice.

"What am I doing here?" She asked him incredulously. "Sam, you just broke into a car." She paused for a moment as accusation came out. Sam, with thirty seconds of work had broken into a car and had completely thrown her perceptions of him into question. "You just broke into a car," she repeated, looking confused. "How'd you break into a car?"

Sam fidgeted uncomfortably, Jess was supposed to be asleep on the couch, in the morning she would find a note from him saying he had to take care of something and would be back in a few days. She was not suppose to find him stealing a car. "Jess, I can't explain right now, I promise I will...just...not now."

"Sam..." Jess began, but was cut off by him.

"Jess, please," he pleaded, glancing around the parking lot, amazed that they hadn't been seen yet, "I don't have time to do this. Go home and I will call you soon."

Jess's lips tightened slightly. She loved Sam, she really did. She loved him despite his secrets, she loved him because he was kind, and smart, and overall amazing. But, she was not so in love with him that she would blindly follow his commands. "No, Sam. I will not pretend this isn't happening. I let you have your secrets, but this is going too far. What is going on?"

"I...uh..." Sam didn't know how to lie to her. He had obviously kept the big family secrets from her, but an outward lie like this was not easy. Deciding that the truth in this situation wouldn't be too harmful, he quickly told her. "My brother's in the hospital, I have to get up there."

Jess blinked comically as she took in this unexpected news. "Dean?" She asked, unsure of his name. Sam didn't like to talk about his family and every time she had asked, he had pushed her questions away. It didn't take her long to figure out that Sam was a master at redirecting conversations away from himself. "Where at?"

"St. Bartholomew's up north," Sam told her, once again checking the parking lot for people. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to get in the car and get out of the area before he was caught. "Jess, I will explain everything soon, I just have to go. Now."

"Then, I'm coming with you," Jess informed him, reaching passed him to click the unlock button on the door, then started to walk around to the other side of the car. She made it about two feet before she found herself being pivoted around.

"No, you aren't." Sam told her, his tone not lending itself to arguments as he gripped her arms, intending on steering her away.

"Yes, I am," she replied, her voice full of its own conviction and concern. Sam had never acted this way before and it was scaring her. Hell, he was intending on stealing a car! Gone were the boyish smiles and shy glances. In their place were tightened lips and hard eyes...like he knew exactly what he wanted and knew he was going to get it. "Listen..." she tried, a bit softer this time, "you were there for me when my mom was sick, let me be there for you now."

Sam frowned, the sincerity in Jess's eyes had nothing to do with finding out more about his past, she just wanted to support him. But, she had no idea what she was getting herself into, there was no possible way that she could. "Jess, this isn't the same as me going with you to the hospital."

Jess looked at the Honda behind Sam and she knew he was right. Even if the reasons for his brother to be in the hospital were explainable, Sam was about to steal a car. Grand theft auto. She would be an accessory to a crime. But looking at Sam, she knew it was worth it, he might not admit it, but she could tell he was struggling to keep it together at the moment. Decision made, she declared, "I don't care, I am coming with you, or I will start attracting attention." She hated to blackmail him like this, but there was no way she was letting him leave without her.

Sam glared at her, why couldn't she have just stayed asleep? He glanced at his watch and realized that he didn't have the time to sit here and try to convince Jess that she should stay behind, he had wasted enough time getting up the nerve to leave in the first place. So, it was either let her come along, or tie her up...both were going to lead to questions he didn't want to answer, one was guaranteed to make her never talk to him again and one he might be able to explain away. Knowing he didn't have any other options, Sam relented, "Fine, you can come. But Jess, this is going to raise some questions, questions about my past and my family. I'll answer them the best I can, but can you wait until after to ask them?"

Jess was surprised at his offer to answer questions about himself, so surprised that she found herself nodding before she could figure out what he meant. When Sam released her arms, she quickly made her way over to the passenger side, afraid that he would leave her if she delayed. Sliding into the car, she watched as Sam folded his tall frame into the car.

Sam quickly got to work ripping off the cover for the ignition wires and got to work connecting the right ones. As he quickly stripped them of their protective covers, Sam remembered back to the summer when Dean decided that he was ready to learn how to hotwire a car. While Sam was completely useless at repairing cars, he quickly memorized how which wires needed to meet in order to get the car running. It took less than two minutes to get the car running and on the road, a time that even Dean couldn't scoff at much.

True to her word, Jess did not ask Sam how he knew how to hotwire a car, she didn't ask him why he had a lock-pick set, but that didn't mean her brain wasn't actively seeking the answers on its own. Perhaps his family ran a locksmith business, or maybe a towing company, but that wouldn't explain the knowledge of hotwiring. Maybe they were a family of car thieves. Or maybe Sam had been a delinquent growing up. Or maybe they were a part of a mob. As time went on, her explanations for Sam's criminal knowledge became more outlandish. Finally, she settled on that she should just trust the Sam she knew and wait for the actual answers. Knowing that this was the best course of action, Jess reached over and took Sam's large hand in her own small one.

* * *

**A/N:** I have the rough draft of the next chapter ready to edit, just letting you guys know in case that encourages you to leave a review. ;) Also, I hope you aren't turned off by the idea of Jess going with Sam. From what I could gather, she was a pretty strong character and she was obviously important to Sam, so it just made sense that she would find a way to go with him. Not to mention...if John gets his act together, how do you think he would react to not only Sam being there, but his college girlfriend as well?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you all for the reviews! I am glad that you are enjoying the story. So, here's the deal, this is probably the last update for the next week or so because I am actually heading on a road trip with a friend and will not have access to the internet for the majority of it. However, if you guys like this chapter, I promise I will spent some time writing while I am gone (what better place to write a SPN story than on the road) and I will give you a super long chapter next time! Enjoy!

* * *

Sam pulled the stolen Honda into the parking lot of a local grocery store three blocks away from the hospital. If it was found, Sam didn't want it to draw attention to the hospital. Shutting off the engine, Sam sat with Jess in silence for a solid minute.

"Sam, we should go," Jess gently prodded.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, nodding absentmindedly, "Yeah, let's go."

Getting out of the car, Sam began to take long strides towards the hospital, slowing down instinctively when Jess's hand found its way back to his. He felt a moment of embarrassment when he realized how clammy his hands were. For the entire drive, Sam had gone through all of the what ifs. What if he was too late? What if Dean died alone, sans Caleb, in a po-dunk town? What if Dean died thinking that Sam hated him?

Sam's last contact with Dean had been on his last birthday. Dean called at 11:49, Sam could remember the exact time because he had replayed the conversation in his head a hundred times since. Sam was out at a bar with his friends when his phone began to buzz. When he noticed it was an unknown number, Sam automatically knew that it was Dean. Unlike their father, Dean never forgot to wish him a happy birthday. Sam motioned to his friends with his phone and then stepped outside of the bar to take it.

"What Dean?" Sam asked right off the bat, his voice laced with annoyance.

"Sammy," Dean sounded almost surprised that he picked up.

"It's Sam," he growled out. He knew he probably shouldn't have answered the call. Over the course of the last few hours he had consumed quite a few drinks. Well, he had four, but he was a lightweight.

"Sorry," Dean mumbled, sounding oddly browbeaten. "I uh..."

"Why are you calling me, Dean?" Sam questioned, his voice getting harsher. "I thought I made myself clear."

Back in the bathroom of a rundown motel room, Dean sunk down to sit on the edge of the bathtub. "Listen, I know you don't want to talk to me, I just wanted to say..."

"You're right," internally Sam cringed as this came out, he knew he was being horrible. "I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to talk to you, or Dad, Pastor Jim, Bobby, Caleb, or anyone else connected to our family. I don't want to hear about how the latest hunt is going. I. Do. Not. Care."

"Sammy," Dean sighed out, "if you would just let me...".

"No, Dean. I'm tired of it, I got out and I don't want back in. Don't call me again, I won't answer." Sam ended the call before Dean could reply.

Lost in his musings, Sam was slightly surprised to see that they had reached the hospital. As they walked in, Sam felt his heart leap into his throat. This was it, time to find out if any of his what ifs had come true. He had made it up to the receptionist before he had a moment of slight panic, he had no idea what name Dean was under. Thankfully, he didn't have to worry about it because as he stepped up, his name was called from the waiting room. Sam and Jess turned around to see Caleb, looking worse for the wear. As they approached him, Sam quickly took in the blood stains on Caleb's dark jeans and splatters of blood on his shirt. Obviously he had not taken the time to change his clothes.

Eyes fixated on the blood, "Dean's blood" his mind helpfully supplied, it took Sam a moment to realize that Caleb was talking to him.

"...here." Sam only heard the last word, so he was not sure if Caleb was glad to see him or not.

Instead of asking him to repeat what he had said, Sam asked the question that had been burning in him. "How is he?" He nearly croaked out, afraid of the answer.

Caleb ran his hand over his smooth head. "Doc came out a little bit ago. He is out of surgery, but he is still in the ICU under close observation." Caleb then gave him a rundown of the various injuries that Dean had acquired.

The tightness in Sam's stomach that was threatening to rid him of the popcorn he ate before Caleb had called did not lessen. Sam knew from experience that Dean was far from out of the woods. "Do they know when his status will change?"

"Not right now, they tried to get me to go home, but there was no way I was leaving him alone." Even if Caleb didn't mean it to hurt Sam, Sam could hear the implications of the words echoing in his head. "There was no way I was leaving him alone...like you did."

As if he could read Sam's mind, Caleb reached out and gripped Sam's arm, "You're here now, that counts for a lot."

Sam looked at the floor uncomfortably, he didn't deserve Caleb's reassurances, "Thanks, Caleb."

Jess had been doing her best to stay unnoticed, but when a sneeze burst from her without warning, both men turned towards her. Turning red from embarrassment, Jess gave a small wave towards Caleb. "Hi."

"You must be Jess," Caleb said, reaching out to shake her hand. "I'm Caleb."

"Yeah," she replied awkwardly, taking his offered hand, "good to meet you."

After Jess released his hand, the waiting room fell into an awkward silence. Sam didn't know what to say to Caleb, his mind was still fixated on Dean. Jess felt completely out of her depth, and Caleb was dead tired. After a moment of this, Sam remembered the blood on Caleb's clothes (as if he could truly forget it).

"Hey, Caleb. Why don't you go get cleaned up, maybe get some rest? I'll stay here and call you if anything changes."

The offer sounded amazing. While he wasn't willing to go when there was no one else here, Caleb could not deny he had the strongest desire to change out of these clothes. Lack of sleep was starting to bring him down as well...adrenaline only lasted for so long before you crashed. Eyeing Sam up, Caleb tried to figure out if he honestly trusted him to stay put and be there for Dean. A couple of years ago and he wouldn't have even questioned it. The moment Sam arrived, he would be off to take care of the necessities. But...this Sam, college Sam, was a whole different person. It almost felt as if he were leaving a stranger in charge of handling things, someone who had no vested interest in the outcome. And while he knew that wasn't really the case, it was difficult to get passed the thought.

Sam gnawed on his lower lip, guessing at the thoughts that were running through Caleb's head. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

Caleb took in a deep breath and nodded, "I'll be back in four hours, call me if something changes. Here is Dean's phone," Caleb added, "I left a message with your dad, but I haven't heard back from him yet. He'll call on this."

Sam took the phone with trepidation, torn between hoping that his dad would actually call to check on Dean and praying that he waited to do it until Caleb returned. While he was unreceptive to Dean's attempts at contact, he never had to worry about it with his dad, they hadn't spoken the entire time he was at Stanford.

Caleb gave both of them a nod goodbye as he picked up his jacket and made his way out of the hospital.

Once Caleb was gone, Sam felt the tension in his shoulders loosen slightly. He knew that he was not the most popular person in their family's close knit group of hunter friends, and while Caleb didn't do anything that was particularly spiteful, Sam still felt judged the entire time. Realizing that they were still standing, Sam motioned for Jess to sit down on Caleb's vacated plastic chair and fell into the one next to it.

Tucking her legs underneath her, Jess fought back a yawn. It was a little after midnight when they had left Palo Alto, then they had driven for four hours to arrive...wherever they were. It was pushing five in the morning and it was getting more difficult to stay awake. About ten minutes of silence went by before she spoke up. "Caleb is younger than I imagined him to be." She had promised Sam that she wouldn't ask him hard questions about his family, but she was relatively sure that this was not going to be a touchy subject for Sam.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed softly, "he was only eighteen when we met him." Sam could have gone into more detail about what their relationship with Caleb was like, but that require too much thought and it risked revealing too much about his past. Truth was, the fact that Caleb wasn't that much older than they were made him fall into the cool young uncle category. At first he hunted with John and just played football with Dean and attempted to play soccer with Sam. But, as they grew older, John enlisted his help in teaching them more about hunting, not just protection. He wasn't always around, he had his own hunts, their dad's hunts would take them away as well, but when he was, he managed to walk the line of protecting them, as well as making them feel like part of the team.

"Oh," Jess supplied, feeling awkward as the silence descended upon them once more.

An hour later, Sam shook himself out of his stupor to see Jess asleep, her head laying against his arm. Figuring it was best to let her get some sleep, Sam slowly checked Dean's cell phone to make sure that no one had called and then started to stare at the tv showing closed captioned news. It meant nothing to him, he honestly couldn't care less, but it was something to look at.

Two hours after he started watching the news, Sam noticed a middle-aged doctor exiting from the ICU. "I'm looking for Dean Perry's relatives?" Sam quickly, but gently shook Jess awake so that he could slide out from underneath her.

"That's me," he informed the doctor, standing up and walking over to him. He passively noticed that Jess had joined him. "He's my brother."

"Hello, I'm Ethan Fuller, I am Dean's primary doctor. I wanted to give you a quick update on Dean. He is still in the ICU, but he is looking better. Due to the damage to his right lung, he is currently attached to a breathing tube, we do not want to make it more difficult for him than necessary. However, we just took another x-ray of the damage and the work that was done during surgery is holding up nicely. He also broke three bones in his arm during the his fall. Surgery was not required and all of them have been reset and his arm has been put into a cast."

Sam nodded in understanding as Doctor Fuller consulted Dean's chart as he updated them. He knew from Caleb that there was one more injury that the doctor had not mentioned yet. "And what about his head injury?"

Doctor Fuller paused, "We don't know yet. His concussion was not bad before his fall, but we are worried about the damage that it might cause now. We have him in a medically induced coma at the moment and we are closely monitoring his brain activities and watching for any build-ups of pressure, but we will not know the full extent of the injury until we try to wake him up."

Sam blinked at the doctor, trying to wrap his mind around his older, invincible brother laying on a hospital bed. "Can I see him?"

"I see no reason why not," Doctor Fuller told him, "However, I want to warn you that Dean is pretty banged up."

"That's fine, I just want to see him," Sam insisted. If he could see his brother, see his chest rise and fall, even if it was through the aide of a breathing tube, then maybe his barely hidden panic would lessen.

"Okay, I will lead you back there," Dr. Fuller replied.

Sam turned to Jess who had been hanging back while Sam had spoken to the doctor. She still couldn't quite figure out her role in this situation. She didn't know Dean, hell, she barely knew his name up until a few hours ago. She figured that she would just wait for Sam to tell her what he needed, which after shifting uncomfortably for a second, he did.

"Jess," Sam began quietly, "I need...I need to do this on my own."

Jess nodded, "I understand, Sam." Standing on her tip-toes, Jess only had to wait a second before Sam tilted his head down so she could give him a quick kiss in reassurance. "I'll be right here."

Sam stared at Jess for a moment before taking a deep breath and releasing her. "I'm ready," he told Dr. Fuller.

Dr. Fuller led Sam past the ICU doors and down the brightly lit hallway. It only took 45 seconds to reach Dean's room, but to Sam, it felt like hours. Stopping outside of room 124, Dr. Fuller blocked Sam from entering. "I can only allow you in here for a few minutes, Dean needs his rest. I'll stop back by when you need to return to the waiting room."

Sam nodded in understanding, unable to get passed the lump in his throat to verbal acknowledge the doctor's words.

Finally, Dr. Fuller stepped aside, clasped Sam on the arm and allowed him to enter the room.

Before Sam stepped into the room, he thought that he could not possibly feel any worse than he already did. But looking at the bed, he could barely recognize his brother. Gone was the confident smile, the slight swagger to the walk, the quirk of the eyebrow when someone said something that Dean thought was ridiculous. Instead, there were cords and tubes, bruises and a cast. A sense of vulnerability that Sam had never felt from his brother, and that Dean would normally kick his ass for saying, was coming off of him in waves. A kitten could best Dean in a fight right now.

Forcing his feet to go further into the room, Sam sank into the chair next to Dean's bed without taking his eyes off of his brother; like if he stopped looking at him, he would disappear and Sam would learn that Dean hadn't survived surgery after all.

Reaching out, Sam lightly touched Dean's hand before quickly retracting it. Even his hand felt lifeless. He had never seen his brother be so still in his entire life. Taking a deep breath, Sam brought his hand up once more and lightly grasped his brother's.

"Hey Dean," Sam whispered, his eyes welling up with tears that were threatening to fall. "I'm not going to apologize to you, not like this. If you want me to beg for your forgiveness, then you have to wake up first. I can't do it if you aren't making fun of me for causing a chick-flick moment."

Sam brushed his hand across his face as the tears began to fall, "I know I haven't been there for you," he choked out, "and that I've been selfish, and I promise, this will be the last thing I ever ask of you...I need you to wake up, Dean. I need my big brother around. Who else is going to kick my ass for being a bitch?"

A light knock at the door jerked Sam from his pleas. Quickly wiping the remaining tears off of his face, Sam turned to look at the door as Dr. Fuller stuck his head in, "Sam, I am sorry, but I have to ask you to let Dean rest for a few hours."

Sam tried to quell the panic that had reinserted itself into him, "Yeah, I'll be right there."

Standing up, Sam leaned over Dean to whisper in his ear, "Listen, Jerk. I know you are in there somewhere and I know that you would never give up, it isn't the Dean Winchester way." Sam said with conviction. "So, I want you fight this and I'll be here when you wake up."

Sam straightened up and gave Dean's hand one final squeeze before dragging himself out of the room to follow Dr. Fuller back to the waiting room. When he entered, Jess immediately stood up and was about to ask him something when Sam swept her into his arms and pulled her in tightly. As she felt hot tears hit her shoulder, Jess pulled Sam as close to her as possible, gently running her hands over his back. Jess was about to whisper reassurances to Sam when a classic rock melody broke the relative silence of the waiting room. Jess felt as all of Sam's muscles tensed up and he quickly extracted himself from her embrace. Digging through his pockets, Sam produced Dean's phone and didn't bother to glance at the screen before flipping it open.

"Hello?" Sam asked, his voice almost hopeful. It didn't last long because apparently whatever the caller replied with was not what Sam was expecting to hear. "I just saw him, Bobby. He came out of surgery without any complications, they are still worried about his head and now they are just figuring out when to wake him up."

Sam listened to Bobby's response before his face tightened in anger, "I know I screwed up, okay? I don't need all of you telling me that!"

Back in his cluttered library, Bobby put a pacifying hand up, even though Sam couldn't see it. "Calm down, Boy. I'm not throwing stones here, you are doing a good enough job at that yourself. I just heard about Dean from Caleb; which by the way, you Idjit, you should have called me before now! I am right in the middle of researching an exorcism for Rufus, but as soon as I can, I'll hit the road and get out there."

Sam felt the vise that had been tightening around his chest loosen slightly. While Bobby wasn't his biggest fan at the moment, just knowing that the crotchety old hunter would be there soon put Sam at some ease; Bobby wouldn't let anything happen to Dean. Hopefully, by the time Bobby arrived, Dean would be awake and on the road to recovery.

Bobby continued, "In the meantime, if something happens with your brother, or if you need me, give me a call! No more of this avoiding me crap. Stubborn ass Winchesters, the whole lot of you!"

Sam's face cracked the first smile since Caleb had called, pleased that Bobby was including him on the list of people he would help, "Sure thing, Bobby."

"Good, you Idjit," Bobby replied, almost fondly. "Keep me updated."

Sam knew that Bobby was about to hang up when a question popped into his head, "Hey, Bobby!"

"Yeah?"

"Have you heard from my dad?" Sam asked, almost not wanting to know the answer, but knowing that if Dean woke up and John hadn't at least called, then he would be crushed.

"No," Bobby replied, "how long has it been since the first message was left?"

"Um..." Sam tried to calculate it in his head, "almost 12 hours now."

Bobby paused long enough for Sam to say his name, thinking that the call may have been dropped. Jumping back into the conversation like the pause never happened, Bobby calmly told Sam, "I'm sure he just hasn't checked it yet, I'll give him a call on his other cell phones and when I know something, I'll let you know."

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam replied in gratitude. "I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah, talk to you later," Bobby said distractedly. The moment he was off of the phone, Bobby hurled the telephone at the opposite wall. "John Winchester, you are a damned bastard!"

Going over to his wall of telephones, Bobby picked up a working one and angrily punched in one of John's cell numbers. Bobby was either going to get a hold of John and make him get his ass to the hospital, or he was going to find him and beat the living snot out of him.

* * *

A/N: I honestly planned that John would be the one calling, but then I realized it hadn't been that long and John is kind of known for his unwillingness to call or show up when the boys are hurt. So, I thought since Bobby and the boys have such a close relationship, it was impossible to not introduce him into the story. As if he would be ambivalent to the fact that Dean was in the hospital. I do not think he will play a major role at the actual hospital, but he might play a part in John's actions. Let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So, I'm back! Excuse this sort of long author's note. After many days and nights of traveling, alternating between sleeping on the ground in a tent and staying in seedy motels (which btw, give a lot of inspiration), and throwing a ton of miles on my car, I am finally home! I promised a longer chapter, and this is my longest chapter for this story yet. I wrote most of this via flashlight or sitting in the passenger seat as we drove through Nevada, so don't be too harsh.

A couple of recent reviews mentioned Bobby's relationship to the boys and how it seemed to change during the show, as well as how they sort of threw John under the bus as time went on. I have a plan for Bobby in this story (he is not major player though), so don't worry! Also, I always thought that while John was an absentee parent and a bit of a drill sergeant, he still cared for the boys, so I hope you guys like how I am depicting his response to everything.

All this being said, enjoy!

* * *

John visibly grimaced as his phone buzzed once more. He hastily clicked ignore and went back to sorting through the evidence on his current case. He was pretty sure that this case could be tied to the yellow-eyed demon, so how could he just up and leave it? He paused for a moment before he threw the file down in disgust. Banging his hand down on top of the file, John bitterly admitted it to himself that it wasn't the demon that kept him from running to Dean's side, it was Dean.

John knew that if he showed up at the hospital and Dean was awake, then his eldest would look at him, first with shock, then he would be pleased, and the last one was what hit John the hardest...gratitude. Gratitude, like John had done him a favor by showing up, not just doing his duty as a concerned father. He couldn't see that look on Dean's face because when he did, he knew he had failed as a father. Dean shouldn't have to be thankful that his dad showed up to take care of him, he should expect it. Should expect to wake up and see his dad hovering over him, asking how he was feeling, making sure that he was safe.

But, John rationalized as he ran his fingers through his hair and took a swig of whiskey, Dean stopped expecting him to act like that kind of father the first time he had left them in a motel room with an order to 'protect Sammy'. Maybe at first, Dean had hoped that his father would return to the man he was before Mary's death, but as time went on, and the demon had eluded them, John withdrew from the role of their father more and more. Instead, he focused on being the commanding officer. Working to keep his sons alive, but not giving them what they truly needed and desperately wanted.

No. No matter how many times Caleb called updating him on Dean's condition, no matter how many times Bobby called, threatening him, he couldn't go to the hospital. Couldn't see the expressions on Dean's face when he realized his dad actually showed, couldn't bear to see the acceptance in his eyes...acceptance for a situation that was entirely John's fault. He knew that Dean didn't walk away from the last hunt unscathed, but since he was on his feet, John didn't think to question him about it. And how he wished he had. Despite the hard line he often took with his boys, they were his, his and Mary's. He can still remember the first time he held them, their first steps, first words...those boys meant more to him than they or anyone else could possibly imagine. Revenge was not the only reason he was hunting down the yellow-eyed demon with such a passion. The demon had been in Sam's nursery the night of the fire, and he had to make sure that his youngest would not be in danger from it again.

All of these reasons...these justifications for not going to Dean, they were valid reasons; so why did he feel as if he was making one of the biggest mistakes of his life? He knew that Dean looked up to him, still couldn't figure out why, but that was the truth of it. However, Dean's faith in him would not last forever if he kept disappointing him.

The whiskey bottle froze halfway to John's mouth as a terrible thought occurred. He was so worried about facing Dean if he was awake...that implied that first he would have to pull through. From Caleb's messages, it wasn't clear that that was going to be the end result of this. His stomach turning over like he had just gotten off of a ride, John set the bottle down and stood up, needing to get some fresh air. Throwing his jacket on and fleeing the motel room, John didn't realize that he had left his cell phone on the table, and that the name flashing across the screen was probably the only name he would have picked up for.

* * *

Sam clenched his teeth as the ringing continued. They had just taken Dean off of the meds that had put him in a medically induced coma and they expected him to wake up anytime now. As much as Sam wanted to avoid talking to his father, he knew that Dean needed to see him when he woke up. Pacing in front of the hospital to let out some of his aggravation, Sam froze when he heard the phone click to voicemail.

"This is John Winchester, leave me a message and I will get back to you."

When the phone beeped, Sam found his tongue was two times too large for his mouth. What was he supposed to say to a dad who wanted nothing to do with him? How could he have possibly thought this was a good idea? Nothing he said was going to get their dad here; in fact, once he knew that Sam was at the hospital, he would probably avoid it even more.

'Focus on Dean', his mind instructed him.

"Dean needs you." Good. "He is supposed to wake up anytime now and you know he would want you here." Better. Sam's lips kept going, even as his mind sent up huge flashing neon signs telling him to stop. "I know you don't want to see me, but I know you care about Dean." Stop! His brain shouted at him. It sounds like you care, finish and hang up! "Just...Dad, just get here. Please."

Hastily, Sam ended the call before his mouth could betray him anymore. He had worked so hard at ending his ties to this world, his family's world. For the past few years, he had worked on convincing himself that he didn't need any of them. Didn't need Dean looking out for him, didn't need the stupid jokes that Dean loved to tell a million times, didn't need his father's approval and affection...and all it took to make him question the years worth of denying the necessity of these was a late night phone call from Caleb.

This was exactly why Sam had originally told Caleb he wasn't coming. When he was originally hopping on the bus to California, Sam was thrilled, he was finally escaping. That feeling lasted about two hundred miles, when he spotted a woman in the most ridiculous outfit. Turning to laugh about it, Sam realized he had no one to laugh with. He was alone. This wasn't like when he ran away and got a dog. He knew then that his dad and Dean would eventually find him, that he only had a limited amount of time to be away. This was permanent. His dad wanted nothing to do with him, he had said as much.

And Dean...well, if he didn't know better, he would have thought Dean was a mute when he told him that he was leaving. All of the animation that he was used to seeing in his brother's facial expressions disappeared, like someone had flipped the off switch. Dean didn't even take up his usual position as a buffer between him and dad when they started fighting. He just sat there, unmoving and completely silent. Before he had walked out of the door, Sam had sent one last pleading look at Dean. Begging him with his eyes to understand why he had to do this. But, he got no response, for all the times that he could convince his brother onto his side, he was not able to reach him this time.

It was then, at mile two hundred and one, that Sam decided to steel himself against his past. He couldn't have it both ways. The life he wanted and the life he had could not be shoved together. Normal people worried about the things in the darkness, but they didn't drive around with arsenals in their trunk in order to combat it. He desperately wanted to be normal, he always had, so that meant getting rid of his past. The first test came at mile three-hundred and fifty-eight. When his phone started to buzz in his pocket, Sam instinctively grabbed at it and had almost answered it when he noticed "Dean" flashing on the screen. Sam knew what his brother would say, knew that it would be counter-productive towards his new goal of normal. So, he did the only thing he could think of and for the first time, he purposefully ignored one of his brother's calls.

Dean's calls had been persistent in the beginning, Sam could only imagine their dad's response to Dean's actions. Or maybe Dean was hiding the fact that he was still trying to get a hold of Sam. Regardless, Sam only answered once, to coldly inform Dean that he didn't want him calling anymore. The moment he had gotten off of the phone, Sam had collapsed onto his dorm room bed, fighting the burning sensation in his eyes. The longer that Sam didn't answer, the less frequent the calls became. Every once in a while, Dean would leave Sam a message, telling him to call back, or updating on where they were in case Sam wanted to come back. After six months of this, the phone calls stopped all together; Dean had apparently given up. Because of this, Sam was shocked when he woke up the day after his first birthday at Stanford to see a voicemail from Dean that simply said, "Happy Birthday, Bitch."

It was hard enough to stay detached when he was actively avoiding communication with his family, but when he was sitting in a hospital watching his brother fight for his life, when he was calling his dad trying to get him to show up...it became nearly impossible. How was he supposed to convince himself that he didn't care if every time he stepped into Dean's room, his heart stopped until he could hear Dean's heart monitor beeping?

Unable to avoid going back into the hospital any longer, Sam stepped through the doors and made his way to Dean's room, pausing at the door and looking in on Jessica and Caleb sitting by Dean's bed. His old world and his new. They weren't supposed to collide. He had planned it so carefully, chosen his words, hidden his instincts, ignored countless phone calls...but none of that mattered, because inside this hospital, his two lives had been forced together. As he walked into the room and Jessica gave him a small, reassuring smile, but he knew that it wouldn't be long before she started asking the questions that he didn't want to answer.

* * *

John reentered the motel room and let his body drop onto the edge of the worn-out bed. Tugging his boots off, he lay back against the pillows and forced his eyes to shut. His need for fresh air had taken him to the bar around the corner...not the freshest of air, but at least he was out of the room. After spending a few hours there, he decided to call it a night. Nothing was going to help him forget his recent fear, that Dean wouldn't pull through, but he was determined to ignore it for now. Dean was a strong boy, he would be fine. As he lay there with his eyes closed, John couldn't help but think of another time that Dean was injured.

It was summer, so they were on the road for the majority of three months. He had taken up a job in Nevada and as usual, he had left Dean and Sam holed up in a roadside motel under Dean's supervision. At the time, they were sixteen and twelve respectively. Sometimes, when he had a place for Sam to stay, he would bring Dean along with him on the hunt. But, this one looked to be too dangerous.

When he returned from the hunt, a week later than originally planned, he had urged them to pack up their things so that they could hit the road. Wanting to get a move on it, John missed the nervous looks that Sammy was giving him and the glares that Dean was throwing at his brother, warning him to be quiet. John also missed the fact that Dean was keeping his left arm held close to his body and would only pick up things with his right.

"Get the lead out, boys," John ordered, grabbing the bag off of Dean's arm and tossing it into the trunk.

"Yes, sir," Dean replied, gently shoving Sam's shoulder to move him towards the backseat of the Impala. Sometimes Dean would hop in the front seat, other times he preferred to hang out in the back with Sam. It just depended on his mood.

As the sparse scenery flew by as the Impala roared down the highway, Dean shifted uncomfortably, his arm feeling like it was on fire.

Sam checked to make sure that their dad was occupied with the road before leaning over to Dean and whispering, "Dean, we should tell dad."

"Shut up, Sammy," Dean ordered with a glare.

"But," Sam began worriedly.

"No!" Dean insisted quietly. "Now, drop it."

"Something I need to know, boys?" John interrupted, glancing in the rear-view mirror. John was used to the boys sitting in the back and having conversations that he was not privy to. He knew it was because of the way he was raising them, making them depend more on each other than on him. They were bound to have their secrets and they were more likely to be closer to one another. Normally, he wouldn't pay any attention to their conversations, but there was something about their expressions that made him curious.

"No, sir," Dean instantly replied.

However, Sam looked hesitant. "I...". Sam was cut off by Dean kicking him in the leg. "No, sir." Sam gave in.

John stared at them a moment longer, hoping that he could get Sam to break; however, Sam's loyalty to Dean outweighed John's probing eyes and his own desire to inform John what was going on.

Turning his eyes back to the road, John figured that if it was something he really needed to know, it would come out eventually, he just had to be patient.

Pulling into the next motel later that night, John turned around and finally realized why the backseat had fallen so silent. Sam and Dean were sprawled out, well, as sprawled out as they could get, on the backseat. The positions of their legs clearly indicating that there was a silent struggle to see who would get to put their feet where. Chuckling softly to himself, John reached over the seat and shook Sammy's leg, followed by shaking Dean's shoulder. Sam's bleary-eyed awakening was expected, while the kid was a morning person, he did not like being woken up at night. Dean's reaction was surprising though, rather than becoming alert with only a few moments of confusion, Dean was ripped from sleep as his arm was jarred.

"Dean?" John questioned, his voice carrying a slight trace of worry. He knew something was not right when unbidden tears welled up in his eldest's eyes.

Dean took a moment to collect himself, there was no reason why he should bother his dad about a stupid sore arm, his dad had far more important things to worry about. "I'm fine," he lied, "my arm just fell asleep and it hurts."

John's eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Dean.."

"Dad, I'm fine," Dean insisted, sitting up fully and preparing to open the car door. "Are we going in?"

"Yeah," John acquiesced, determined to get to the bottom of this. After paying for a room for the night, John made his way back to the Impala, his patience wearing thin as he once again heard the boys bickering about something. "Grab your bags and get inside," he ordered shortly.

He waited until they had thrown their bags on the floor next to the bed furthest away from the door. "Now," he started, leveling them both with a stare, "one of you is going to tell me what the hell has gotten into the two of you."

Sam fidgeted uncomfortably, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Dean just picked a point on the wall behind John's head and refused to move his gaze.

"Sam?" John questioned, knowing from the body language that Sam was more likely to be the one to spill. "You have something to say?

"I..." Sam began, "I, uh...no sir?" He ended in almost a question.

John fought the urge to rub his hand across his face warily. "Dean?" He asked, although he did not expect anything new to come out.

"It's just the normal bickering," Dean replied, almost lightheartedly. "You know how Sammy gets when we are traveling."

It was Sam's turn to glare at Dean, but he didn't say anything in response.

"Fine," John said with a slight wave of his hand, "get some sleep. We are going to be here a couple of days and I don't want any more arguing."

The next morning, Sam and Dean had woken to a note on the table saying that John had found a suspected case and would be back in a couple of days. There was an envelope with some money in it, which Dean instantly grabbed up and pocketed. Sam didn't even protest, it was just expected that Dean would take care of the financials and making sure that they were fed while their dad was out.

"You should have told him," Sam informed Dean.

"What do you know, smarty-pants," Dean questioned teasingly, ignoring the throbbing in his arm.

"I know that your arm is killing you," Sam told Dean with a knowing voice. "You can't keep it from him forever. Don't you think he is eventually going to catch on to the fact that you aren't using your left arm for anything?"

"I'll figure something out," Dean reassured him. "It isn't even that bad."

The next few days passed without incident, they bought some food, watched boring television, Dean had even managed to sneak them into a movie. Dean also did a good job at convincing Sam that his arm was no longer an issue. However, the slightest movement still caused the pain to flare up and it was just getting worse.

On the fourth day, when John was expected back, the boys had decided to go grab some food at the local diner. Well, Dean had decided and Sam was forced to go along with it. Apparently in rural Utah, hanging out at the diner was what the teenagers did and Dean was bored and wanted to chat up some girls. Sam didn't get it, as far as he was concerned at the moment, girls were just...girls. But, Dean had humored him a lot lately, so he figured he could do the same. However, he wasn't expecting, although he should have, the subsequent fight that would break out over Rebecca Meyers. The problem wasn't Rebecca, it was her boyfriend Charlie. Apparently, Charlie didn't like Dean flirting with his girlfriend...or implying that he wouldn't stand a chance against Dean in a fight.

The fight broke a window, overturned tables, and had Sam and Dean booking it through back-alleys towards their motel.

Sam heard the rumbling of the Impala's engine while he was out getting a refill of ice for Dean. Unable to use one of his arms had put Dean at a disadvantage in the fight, and when Charlie's friends decided to help out, not even Sam's aid could keep Dean from walking away looking worse for the wear. It didn't help that the moment Sam stepped in to help, Dean became distracted trying to make sure that he didn't get hurt.

Ceasing the ice flow, Sam all but ran back to the room and quickly let himself inside. "Dad's here," he said breathlessly, almost hoping that the bruises on Dean's face had subsided while he was away.

"Shit," Dean mumbled, standing up and stumbling to the bathroom to look in the mirror. Carefully he pulled the washcloth that he had been pressing against his forehead away and noticed with some relief, that at least he wasn't bleeding anymore.

Sam bounced around the room, grabbing up the first washcloth that was stained through with blood. "Dean," he warned as he heard the key slide into the lock.

As the front door was opening, Sam could hear the bathroom door click shut. Sending a glare to the closed door, Sam could only think that it was a low move of his brother's to leave Sam to face their dad alone.

"Hey, dad," Sam greeted from the couch, where he had thrown himself and picked up a book moments prior to his dad entering.

"Hey, Sammy," John replied. Looking around the empty room, John asked, "Where's Dean?"

"He's in the bathroom," Sam informed him, turning back to the book he had opened to a random page and pretending to read it.

John nodded and put his duffle down on his bed. "Dean, hurry up, I want to shower!" He called out, pulling his boots off.

"Yeah, just a moment," Dean said hurriedly. Inside the bathroom, Dean was attempting to remove all traces of the dried blood. He was also trying to convince himself that the bruises weren't as bad as he thought.

Ten minutes later, John had pounded on the door twice, with no success, "Dean, get your ass out here!" John was tired, dirty, and just wanted to sleep for a while, but that wasn't going to happen until he had a shower.

Sam watched on, unable to see how his brother was going to get out of this one. He was shocked when he heard the lock to the bathroom door click over and the door slowly creak open.

Before the door had fully opened and Dean was revealed, he had already begun to talk, "Listen, Dad, I can explain...I..."

"What the hell happened?" John nearly yelled, shower forgotten, as the light from the bathroom illuminated Dean's face.

"Well...we were at the diner and some kid decided to play tough," Dean began.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's version of the story, of course he was going to leave out the part about how he taunted the guy into taking a swing.

"Judging by your face, I don't think he was playing," John replied wirily.

"He had friends," Dean countered stiffly.

"So, you allowed yourself to be beat to hell by a bunch of kids?" John questioned.

Sam's eyes rolled once again, leave it to his dad to be more concerned that Dean had lost a fight, not that he was in one in the first place. Tired of his family's perspective on this, Sam chimed in before Dean could stop him. "He only lost because his arm is hurt, probably broken."

Two pairs of Winchester eyes narrowed, one set at Sam and the other at Dean.

"What?" John ground out at the same time as Dean clearly threatened Sam with a simply, "Sammy."

"Sammy's over exaggerating," Dean assured, turning his glare from Sam to look at his father earnestly, "it's nothing, only a little sore."

"When did it happen," John asked the boys as he crossed over to Dean and held out his hand, clearly expecting Dean to relinquish his arm for inspection.

Dean didn't answer, nor did he hold out his arm. Instead, Sam piped up from his spot, half sitting on the couch and half prepared to make for any exit he could find. "Back in Nevada, four days before you got back."

The moment Sam spoke up, John was prepared for Dean's reaction, so when he made a fast break towards his younger brother, no doubt with the intention of throttling him for spilling the secret, John was ready to catch him around the middle and use Dean's momentum to direct him to a chair. When he tried to stand up, John put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Easy, Ace. I would have found out eventually."

Sam withheld his triumphant smirk at Dean's expense, he may have been right, but that didn't mean he wasn't sorry for the situation Dean was in. Also, he knew that any amount of gloating would come back tenfold the moment that their dad wasn't watching.

John motioned for Dean to remove his jacket so that he could see his arm more clearly. "How'd it happen?" He asked as he prodded Dean's arm gently.

Silence. The only sound that could be heard in the room was from the old, barely running fan.

"Boys?"

The click of the fan blades making their rotation was clearly audible.

Dean hissed as John pushed on a particularly tender area.

"For Christ's sake! One of you answer me," John ordered, having no more patience.

"We ran out of money," Sam said quickly, avoiding Dean's eyes.

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed, probably louder than he intended to as his dad kept poking at his arm.

But he didn't have to worry about that at the moment, because right after Sam's explanation, John's hands froze. "How?" John asked, possibly meaning how did they run out of money, or how did Dean's arm have anything to do with it...probably both.

"It was just an accident," Dean explained, "it was stupid."

"Dean, that's not true and you know it!" shouted Sam.

"What would you know about it, Sam?" Dean countered.

Sam's eyes hardened, he had originally promised that he wouldn't tell their dad about what happened, but if he wanted to make sure it wouldn't happen again, then John had to know. "We ran out of money, you were already late and we didn't know when you would get back. So, Dean decided to go and hustle some pool. But, the guys he was hustling caught on and weren't happy."

John held up his hand, stopping Sam's story, he didn't need to hear the rest to figure out what had happened. The evidence of that was sitting in his hands in the form of a broken arm. He turned his gaze towards Dean, who was stubbornly refusing to look at him again. "And you were just going to keep this from me?" John asked, his voice hard.

Dean visibly swallowed, "You had more important things to worry about," Dean rationalized.

John removed his hands as quickly as he could without jostling Dean's arm more than necessary, pulled his boots back on and quickly left the suddenly stifling room. As he made his way to the Impala to grab the first aid kit so he could splint Dean's arm for the time being, John couldn't help but think he had failed. He had left the boys without enough money to get by, Dean had been forced to hustle pool to feed them, in return he had gotten roughed up, and the real kicker was that Dean didn't think that he should know, that he would consider it to be important.

The next day, when they were able to make it to a doctor in order to get Dean's arm properly casted, Dean had thrown a look of gratitude in John's direction; silently thanking him for not tearing him a new one over the fact that he got caught hustling, glad that he didn't have to hide the pain in his arm any longer, because now his dad was there to take care of it.

* * *

Back at the hospital, Caleb had left to take care of the loose ends with the hunt he had been on with Dean. Right now, they were simply playing the waiting game. The doctors were sure that Dean would wake up, and then they would be able to assess the damage done to his head.

With Caleb absent, Sam and Jess embraced the awkward silence that had fallen in the room. Sam had stepped out about an hour ago to take a call from Bobby. Like Sam, he had been unable to get a hold of John, but promised to keep trying. Sam could tell that his dad was walking on thin ice with Bobby and that the grizzly old hunter would soon be past his breaking point.

So, for the past hour, Sam had simply stared at Dean's vitals flashing across the monitor and Jess mindlessly flipped the pages of a two year old magazine that she had found on the waiting room table. As she reached the end of it, she could not help the slight sigh that escaped her lips. It took Sam a moment, but he was pulled from his watch over the vitals and glanced at her. In response to his slightly quirked eyebrow, Jess stumbled slightly, the sound of her own voice seeming foreign. "Sorry, I was just..."

What was she doing? That was a damn good question. Well, she was sitting in her boyfriend's brother's hospital room. The brother that he barely mentioned, and when he was brought up, quickly changed the subject. Sam's brother, Dean. Dean Winchester. But, Winchester was not the last name that marked his file. No, that said his last name was Perry. Why the hell did it say Perry? Was this all connected with Sam's ability to hotwire a car like it was as easy as turning a key in the ignition? Did it have something to do with why Dean was in the hospital in the first place? She understood his injuries, but she still didn't understand how he had received them, but Sam knew. She knew he did because Caleb had pulled Sam aside the first day they had arrived and Sam never asked any more questions about it.

It all led back to the question about what the hell she was doing. She had called her family and told them that she had to be with Sam right now and that she would return home for break as soon as she could. She had sat here in the room for the past week, only leaving to shower and catch some sleep in the hotel room they had booked. She had flipped through every single recent magazine she could find, as well as the past issues. And despite her urge to, she had not asked Sam a single difficult question.

It was in the moment that she realized she had not asked, that a burning desire popped up in her to do so. The same determination that had gotten her the top grades in high school, that had gotten her into Stanford, that had made her ask the shy boy in the coffee shop out on a date, drove her to say, "Sam, I know I promised to wait, but what is going on here?"

Sam stared at her like he could not comprehend her question. He didn't want to answer it. It was that simple. He could go with a vague, slightly sarcastic response, that frankly reminded him a bit of Dean and say that they were in a hospital, waiting for his brother to wake up. But, that would just push her away, and he had tried so hard to keep her close. Shifting through his thoughts to come up with an appropriate answer, Sam was saved by the heart monitor as all of a sudden Dean's heart rate shot up. Sam's focus instantly shifted towards his brother and he noticed Dean's eyelids fluttering as his hands gripped the sheets. "Jess," Sam said urgently, "get a doctor."

Dean's heart rate continued to climb as Jess sprinted from the room in search of help. Just as Sam thought it couldn't get any higher, Dean's eyes fluttered open.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! It was great hopping on and reading what you guys wrote. That being said, the last chapter had the most favorites and the most alerts, but the least amount of reviews. I won't put a min. number of reviews before I update or anything silly like that, but I can tell you that reviews make the writing process go much faster. It is great encouragement for me to update.

As for the next update, I am actually leaving again (so forgive any slight mistakes in the chapter, I was rushing to get it out before I left). I will be camping with my dad and sister for the next week and will not have access to internet. However, I will have pen and paper, so I hope to get quite a bit of writing done. I will update as soon as I can upon my return and I really hope to come back to your thoughts about this chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Dean?" Sam questioned softly, his voice eager.

Dean blinked owlishly, his eyes trying to focus. As the haze lifted, his heart beat increased again as he noticed the tube shoved down his throat. Reaching his IV riddled hand up, Dean tried to grab at the tube, tried to get it to stop choking him.

Sam instantly pulled Dean's hand away. When Dean's wild eyes reached his, Sam tried to reassure him, "It's okay, the doctor's on his way and I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate you doing his job." Sam ended it with a light smile, even a disoriented and panicking Dean was better than the unresponsive, lifeless one that had laid on the bed a few minutes ago.

Just then, Dr. Fuller walked in, smiling gently at Dean. "Dean, it's so good to see you awake."

Dean's eyes jumped from Sam's to the newcomer's, his panic barely concealed.

"I need you to relax, Dean," Dr. Fuller informed him. "Now that you are awake, we can make sure that your lungs are functioning properly and then we can get the breathing tube out of you."

Dean's heart rate slowed a bit as his mind caught up to what the doctor was saying. Dr. Fuller called a nurse in and they ran all of the necessary tests and concluded that Dean's lungs were working well and that the tube could be removed. After they got a little bit of water down his throat, Dr. Fuller began asking Dean simple questions in order to determine any significant damage to his brain. Right off the bat, the doctor looked concerned as he asked for Dean's full name.

Dean hesitated, cursing the fact that he was hooked up to a heart monitor. His eyes flew to Sam, unsure of the last name he was under. "Dean...uh..."

Jess watched, curious as Dean fumbled around for the answer. She noticed that while the doctor was busy looking at Dean's chart, Dean was frantically looking to Sam. Jess glanced up at her boyfriend just in time to see him slowly mouth 'Perry'.

"Dean Perry," Dean quickly shot out, his heart rate slowing down once more.

"Good," Dr. Fuller said as he made a note in Dean's file. "And do you remember how you got here?"

Dean paused again, god how he hated hospitals. Of course he remembered how he got here. The strength of the monster as it through him around like a child's toy, the sensation of drowning, the blood...yeah, he remembered, but how would that go over with the doc? Knowing that Caleb would have created a story, Dean thought that it would be okay if he said he didn't remember. Anyways, wasn't it normal for things to be a bit fuzzy after traumas? "I don't remember."

"That's okay, I'm sure it will come back." Dr. Fuller replied, once again making a note in his file. "Those are all of my questions for now. Your head injury does not seem to be a major concern at the moment, but I will check in again in a few hours to see how you are doing."

Dean mumbled his thanks as the doctor stood up. He watched as Sam nodded in goodbye and then he felt the awkward tension seep into the room.

It was obvious that everyone in the room was very uncomfortable. Jess sat on a chair next to the window, her back as straight as a board. Sam sat closer to Dean's bed and was alternating between guiltily stealing glances at Dean and staring at his hands as he twisted them around nervously. Dean, for his part, laid stiffly on the hospital bed, focusing on the various aches and pains, as well as trying to figure out what Sam...and Sam's girlfriend, was doing there. Last he knew, Sam didn't care if he was alive, and now he finds out that Sam has been hanging around the hospital for the past week.

It had been an hour since the doctor had removed the breathing tube and said it was okay for Dean to talk as long as it was comfortable, but no words had been exchanged between the room's occupants. Jess had begun to leave early in the hour, but Sam had sent her a pleading look that had her easing back onto the chair.

As Sam picked at a loose string that hung from the cuff of his sweatshirt, he knew that he needed to talk to Dean, but he couldn't find the nerve to break through the silence. It was easier when Dean was asleep. Now that he was awake, Sam was afraid of the reaction he would receive.

Dean was facing a different sort of dilemma. For one, he didn't actually want to talk at all, his throat was killing him and the thought of speaking sounded terrible. For two, he didn't know what he would say if Sam did start talking. He couldn't believe that Sam had actually came to the hospital, couldn't believe that he brought his girlfriend, and really couldn't believe that he had stayed this long. Was he supposed to say, 'geez, thanks Sammy for deciding I wasn't such a screw-up that you would let me die alone?' or, 'Hey, how long are you sticking around? I don't want to get my hopes up that you are letting me back into your life.'

Dean was pulled from his thoughts when Sam cleared his throat before joking awkwardly, "So, at least your brain isn't scrambled."

Dean's eyes swiveled from the ceiling to look at Sam. He let loose a sound that bordered between a snort and a hmph. He knew that Sam was just trying to break through, but frankly, he didn't really care to try and make Sam feel better about this. He was the one stuck in the bed, he was the one who had been struggling to get by, and he was the one who Sam had been ignoring...why should he be the one making the most effort?

Still...he had to work to ignore the sudden pang of guilt that hit him as Sam's face unconsciously morphed into one of sadness.

When Sam's attempt fell flat, Jess shifted awkwardly in her seat. She didn't know how she expected this to go, but this was certainly not it.

The silence blanketed the room once more, smothering its occupants.

Sam was about to start pacing in frustration when there was a quick knock at the door before it swung open, revealing a beaming Caleb.

"About damn time you woke your lazy ass up! You left me to finish the hunt on my own," Caleb said in greeting, managing to role his relief, his concern, and slight anger at Dean all in one statement. "You look horrible," he deadpanned.

Sam barely managed to conceal his jealousy as Dean's entire demeanor changed. He went from lifelessly laying there to nearly beaming, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes that Sam always equated with his older brother was finally present...and he had nothing to do with putting it back.

"Still look better than you," Dean spoke up, his voice rough from the breathing tube and general disuse. However, he was thrilled to see that Caleb had stuck around.

"Sure, pretty boy, let me get you a mirror and we'll see if you still think so," Caleb quipped back, stepping up to the bed and lightly clasping Dean on the shoulder.

Unlike when Sam had tried to make physical contact with him, Dean didn't flinch away from Caleb's hand. Sam nearly let himself glare at Caleb before remembering that there were other people in the room.

"Yeah, whatever," Dean growled out good naturedly. He then sobered slightly, "Look Caleb, I'm sorry about all this."

Caleb held up one hand and gently squeezed Dean's shoulder with the other, "There is nothing to be sorry for. If anything, I should be the one apologizing, I should have noticed that something was wrong."

Dean had opened his mouth to refute Caleb's self-blame, but was silenced by a hard glance from Caleb. Caleb was not going to let him take the blame and to be honest, it was kind of nice knowing that he wasn't going to get yelled at for making a mistake.

Sam cleared his throat, perhaps unconsciously trying to ruin whatever moment was happening between his brother and Caleb. "Uh," he said awkwardly once the attention was on him, "Jess and I are going to go grab something to eat," he threw out.

"Okay," Dean replied, looking like he couldn't care less what Sam did.

"I guess we'll just..." Sam trailed off, gesturing towards the door. He looked towards Jess who stood up with a slight smile towards Caleb and Dean and walked up to Sam.

"Yeah, bye," Dean said with as much quirk to his eyebrow as he could manage.

* * *

When the door shut, blocking Sam from view, Dean released a sigh, causing Caleb to look down at him knowingly.

"Something you want to get off of your chest? Perhaps, why I could cut the tension with a knife a few minutes ago."

Dean shook his head lightly, trying to keep the room from spinning. "Nah, I've got nothing."

"Uh huh," Caleb replied disbelieving, plopping himself in Sam's vacated seat. "Wanna know why I don't believe that?" He paused for effect. "Because you're a Winchester. You're all the same, heaven forbid you be honest about what you are thinking, what you're feeling."

Dean threw Caleb a droll expression, "Yeah, yeah"

"Look, I don't want to over step my bounds, and I don't want you to think I am condoning what he did, but Sam really stepped up here."

Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Yeah, Sam Winchester, the epitome of selflessness," he said bitterly.

Caleb remained silent for a minute, he knew that Dean was working through a lot of stuff at the moment. "The kid is trying, once you get passed all of the things that are preventing you from seeing it, you should remember that he is giving up a lot to be here. He is risking the life he has built over the past few years and I have seen the looks his girlfriend has sent him, he will be answering for a lot soon."

Caleb watched as his advice hit Dean, he could tell Dean began pondering it when his brow furrowed and he stared at a spot on the wall behind Caleb.

"I am gonna let you get some rest, I'll be back tomorrow to check on ya." Caleb told him, knowing that he needed some time to get his thoughts in order. "Don't go dying while I'm gone."

"I won't," Dean reassured. "Who else would put up with you?"

Caleb chortled as he reached the door, he was about to leave when Dean threw out the one question Caleb had been dreading.

"Caleb, did someone get a hold of my dad?" Dean asked, internally cringing as he couldn't keep his voice from reflecting the hope that his dad was on his way, and the hurt from knowing deep down that he wasn't.

Caleb took in the broken man on the bed, and remembered that somewhere inside of him, there was also a broken boy. Choosing his words carefully, as to not give Dean too much hope, Caleb replied, "We're trying Kid, he is in the middle of a hunt and you know how he forgets to check his phone."

"Yeah," Dean said softly before his mask slid back into place. "I thought you were leaving. I'm not a saint, I can only look at you for so long," he said with a cheeky grin.

Caleb allowed Dean to hide behind his humor, it was a byproduct of his life and if that was what he needed in order to get by, who was Caleb to deny him that? "Yeah, yeah, I'm going. I'll be back later."

* * *

While Caleb and Dean had their heart to heart, Jess watched as Sam moodily poked his fork into his salad. For a guy who could usually put away three times as much food as she could, it was strange watching him pick at a salad. Taking a sip of her iced tea, Jess cleared her throat and was surprised to get Sam's attention as easily as she did.

"How are you doing?" she asked Sam quietly.

Sam stabbed at his salad for a few more moments before responding. "I'm fine."

Jess hmphed lightly, "Okay then." Jess didn't mean to sound short. She understood that Sam was having a hard time, but she had been sitting there, the obedient girlfriend, not asking questions, being there for him whenever he needed her. After a week, she was just reaching her breaking point.

"What?" Sam asked defensively, passively acknowledging that they probably should get some rest before having any kind of serious conversation.

"It's nothing," she told him shortly. She waited a moment, "It's just...Dean's last name? Hunting? The lies? I have no idea what is going on here, Sam. You haven't told me anything, I haven't wanted to ask, but I need answers."

Sam tried to swallow as his mouth suddenly dried up. This was it. Sitting in this bleak hospital cafeteria, hunched over an old plastic table, Jess was finally going to ask the questions that she didn't really want the answers to, and when he was finished explaining, she would run for the hills. He knew that he would eventually have to explain some of his past to her; he was thinking that she was the girl he could be with forever, how could he not tell her some things. But, having her ask questions under these circumstances, in a situation that he could not control...this was not ideal.

"Okay..." he said, his voice sounding defeated.

Jess blinked at her victory, a very hollow one, but a victory none the less. "Okay," she said repeating him, but not knowing where to start. She thought to her most recent question. "Why does the hospital think that Dean's last name is Perry?"

Sam hesitated...such a simple question, but at the heart of it, it was one of the most important ones. His first instinct was to lie...it would be so much easier to lie than to tell the truth. However, he promised her the truth. "Because...with the line of business that my family is in, we don't often use our real last name."

Good answer, Sam thought, it told the truth, but it left out the less than savory side.

"Is Winchester even your last name?" Jess asked quickly, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

"Yes," Sam reassured instantly, holding his hand out. "Yeah, it is."

Jess let out a small breath of air that she had been holding. "Alright," she said, trying compose her thoughts. She thought back to the way Sam answered her question, she knew that he was hedging around her question, the same way he always did when she started asking personal questions. Deciding that she deserved to know, she continued down the same line, "So, what line of business is your family in?"

It was Sam's turn to hold his breath in. "Well...we..." Sam avoided looking at Jess for a moment, avoided her searching eyes. Swallowing once again, Sam forced himself to look at Jess. He took in her blond hair, her bright eyes, her beautiful...well everything. He trusted her, deep down he trusted her, and he had to trust that she would be able to handle this. So, in response, he simply told her, "We hunt things."

"What do you hunt?" Jess asked, realizing that Sam needed her to lead him through this.

Sam glanced around to make sure that they were alone. The cafeteria was empty sans the workers on the far side of the room. "Monsters," he admitted quietly.

"What?" Jess asked incredulously, thinking that Sam was trying to make a joke.

"Monsters," Sam repeated, his face as pale as the poorly painted walls. "Monsters, ghosts, things your nightmares wouldn't even touch."

Jess stared at him, her mouth slightly open as she tried to think of a response. "Sam, that isn't funny."

"I'm not joking," Sam told her earnestly. "Jess, I know that this is not what you expected to hear, but..."

"No, Sam...this is not only what I did not expect to hear, it's impossible!" Jess exclaimed, lowering her voice as she notice Sam's eyes jump towards the workers to see if they had noticed. "I can't believe you thought that I would be stupid enough to fall for this."

Sam tried to put a pacifying hand on her arm, his expression turning wounded as she jerked it out of his reach.

"Jess, I know it sounds impossible, but it's true. My mom was killed in a fire, but there is more to the story," Sam told her, beginning to get desperate. "There was this demon..."

"A demon!" Jess half yelled, half hissed at him. "Enough Sam! I get it, you don't want to tell me, but making something like this up?"

Sam went on the defense again, "Why would I make this up? Something that is so completely unbelievable? Just think about it, please! All of my habits that you just passed off as weird, always having salt out, the 'silly' symbols I doodled all the time, the locked box I keep in the closet, how I always check the exits when we enter a building, my sudden ability to fight," he said, referencing a time when they were at a bar with their friends and Zack had gotten into a tussle with some guys. "I know you aren't stupid, Jess. You have seen these things, but you haven't been able to figure out why or how I do them, so you just explain them away. But, there is a real explanation and I am trying to tell you now."

Jess tried to control her breathing, her mind flashing to all of the odd and unexplainable things that had occurred throughout the course of her knowing Sam. The way he would always be super cautious when they were walking home at night, how he would never put his back towards an open door, how he never seemed to be completely comfortable around new people, how he never talked about his past...it all made sense...except for the monsters part. Monsters were not real. They were stories that people told to frighten children. There was not this hidden group of people going around killing the Big Bad Wolf.

No, absolutely not.

But, the way Sam was looking at her, begging her to suspend her disbelief for just a moment, to consider that he was telling the truth...why would he lie to her? A week to come up with something to tell her, and he picks monsters. Why in the world would that be his explanation if it wasn't true?

Close to hyperventilating, with Sam looking more and more concerned, Jess frantically shook her head back and forth, "I can't...there isn't...I need some air."

Sam held back the urge to follow her as Jess flung herself away from the table, knocking her chair to the ground with a loud clatter. As she ran out of the cafeteria, Sam felt his own eyes welling up. Angry at himself, he threw his arm out and forcibly knocked his cup of water off of the table. As the cup hit the ground, ice and broken glass flying across the floor, Sam blinked and realized what he had done. Standing up quickly, Sam wavered uncertainly, not sure of his next course of action. Glancing over at the workers, he stumbled over a quick apology as he started to back out of the cafeteria, nearly running into someone walking in. Throwing out another apology, he quickly walked away.

* * *

Dean was once again lying silently on his bed. It was a testament to how crappy he felt that he wasn't bugging the doctor to release him already. He hated hospitals. Not that he had seen the inside of them often. His usual hospital was a run-down motel room with stained carpets and a bottle of whiskey. It was a plus if the motel didn't rent rooms by the hour. That meant that the times he had been in a hospital, it had been bad, for him, his dad, or for Sammy.

Sammy. Now that was a fun topic to think about. Dean had tried to think about what Caleb had said, that maybe he should look at it from Sam's point of view, to see that Sam was risking a lot. But, it was difficult. It wasn't that Dean didn't care. It was just...he wished that people didn't feel like they had to give something up to be around him.

Dean was pulled from his thoughts when the door to his room opened, and the object of them walked in. Dean took note of the haggard appearance of his younger brother, noting how he seemed more distressed now, he was also missing something. "Where's the girlfriend?" Dean asked, unable to remind himself quickly enough that he was currently trying to avoid conversation with Sam.

Sam looked surprised for a moment, "You're still awake. You should be resting."

Dean's mouth tightened slightly in displeasure, "I've slept long enough. And stop avoiding my question." He finished with an order.

It was Sam's turn to tighten his mouth, "She's getting some air."

"She finally looked at your face and went running?" Dean quipped as he berated his mouth for continuing to talk. He couldn't help it though, now that it was just him and Sammy in the room, he couldn't help but let himself fall back into a pattern that was comfortable.

Despite all of his worries at the moment, the corner of Sam's mouth quirked up. "Something like that."

Dean studied Sam more closely, he could see that slightly desperate look in his eyes, the tightened posture, the leg that bounced uncontrollably, even as Sam put a hand on it to stop it. "What happened?" He asked quietly.

Sam gave Dean the shortened version of events from the time Caleb had called him, including his promise to answer Jess's questions.

"So, you just told her we hunt monsters?" Dean asked him, disbelief apparent on his face.

"I couldn't lie anymore," Sam admitted wearily, "not to her."

Dean nodded slightly, sucking in his bottom lip. "Well that was," he breathed out, "...completely stupid."

Sam's shoulder's tightened even more in defense, "What was I supposed to tell her, Dean?"

"You weren't supposed to tell her anything," Dean countered. "How the hell did you think that was going to go over? 'Hey, Blondie, my family hunts monsters. Sure, you can come home with me for Thanksgiving, how does some KFC and a six-pack sound? Where's home? Well, let me get a hold of my dad for some coordinates.'" Dean said mockingly.

Sam sat there, his expression stony, "I didn't have a choice. And her name's Jess"

"Yes, you did," Dean exclaimed, but was cut off from finishing his thought.

"No, I didn't, Dean! The only options I had were staying in Palo Alto and hoping to hear from Caleb that you were okay, or bringing Jess along with me. I tried, okay...I wasn't going to come. But, I couldn't do it! I couldn't leave you here alone. I love Jess, I really do...but, I'm here aren't I?" The strength in Sam's voice had lessened until the last question was asked at nearly a whisper.

Dean didn't have a response. What could he say to that? All of his bitterness about being abandoned by Sam, the anger and sadness...it didn't disappear. But in the end, Sam was right, he was there, and that did count for something. Like Caleb said, it didn't wash away the wrongs, but it was certainly a check in the right category. Hell, Sammy was here when their dad wasn't, and Dean had seen his dad less than two weeks ago. "Yeah, Sammy," Dean agreed roughly, something he would attribute to the breathing tube and not to emotions, "you are."

* * *

A/N: So, I struggled to find a place to end this, so I hope this was okay. Next time there will be more John, Jess will deal with what Sam has told her, more Dean (because how could that be a bad thing), and overall goodness (hopefully). Please review! It encourages the whole writing process.


	6. Chapter 6

So, I'm back to civilization! Only for a while though, I am leaving again next week for another camping trip (sorry, I like the woods). Once again, you guys are getting a chapter jotted down via flashlight, so I hope it lives up to your expectations. I literally just typed it up from my notebook, so I can't guarantee that there are no mistakes, so I apologize now if you find any.

I will leave you with this, I do a whole other chapter written up. I just need to revise it and type it. If I get more reviews, I will be more inspired to get it done sooner. And yes, this is blatant bribery.

Enjoy!

* * *

Jess hesitated at the entrance to the hospital. When she had left the hotel room, she did not have the intention of ending up here. Sam had gone for a run before she had woken up and the note on the desk said he would be a while.

When she had run out of the cafeteria the day before, she had found herself wandering around the lake that was near the hospital. What Sam had told her was ridiculous. Monsters...really? Should she start expecting Dracula to jump out at her? But...what other explanation could she come up with? All of her other reasons for Sam's behavior and Dean's injuries were just as outlandish as monsters.

She had lost track while she was wondering around and before she had realized it, the shadows had grown longer and the air had gained a crisp aspect to it. She rubbed her hands rapidly over her arms to get rid of the goose bumps that had spread over them. As she walked past a section of bushes, Jess felt her heartbeat increase; she could have sworn that she had seen the leaves rustling. "Come on, Jess...get a grip on it. There is nothing there," she reassured herself quietly, still staring at the bushes.

Despite her reassurances, she couldn't stop herself from hurrying past them, a tingling feeling like something was watching her plaguing her as she nearly ran by. Unable to keep her mind from overreacting, Jess knew that she had to return to the hotel room she was sharing with Sam. As she was working her way back, Jess thought about what she was going to do. She could leave Sam here, which meant she was in effect saying that she didn't believe him, which she knew would end their relationship. Or she could stay, she could spend the time to figure out what she truly believed and go from there. She didn't want to throw away her relationship with Sam without being sure, so Jess knew that she was staying for the time being.

If the situation had been different, when Jess swiped the keycard and entered the room, she would have laughed at the surprised look on Sam's face. As the door swung open, he had whipped around, surprised to see her standing there because he had been sure that she had gone back to Palo Alto.

"Hi," he greeted timidly.

"Hi," she returned similarly. And then, as if by an unspoken agreement, they had gotten ready for bed in silence. Crawling into bed, Jess did not wrap herself around Sam's tall frame like she usually did, but curled up on to her side with a clear divide between their bodies.

It had taken them both hours to fall asleep, she could tell because Sam had this slight snore when he slept, which he always denied.

In the morning, she was surprised to see that he was gone. But then, this was his normal routine, maybe now that Dean was awake and alert he felt comfortable getting back into the swing of things. She recognized that time away from Sam was important if she was going to get to the root of her doubts. When she was around Sam, she had the habit of brushing things off because of her love for him. They say that love can blind and in this case it completely took her eyes. However, she needed to determine whether or not Sam was telling the truth. Then, she got a horribly great idea; she would go talk to Dean. Dean would be able to collaborate Sam's story or he could completely prove it false. That was how she ended up walking down the hallway towards Dean's room at the very beginning of visiting hours.

Pausing outside of Dean's door in order to steel herself, Jess was surprised to hear him already talking to someone.

"I said I was fine, you can stop hounding me."

Jess didn't hear a response, so she figured that Dean was on the phone, but she could hear Dean's sigh.

"There's no reason for you to come all the way out here," Dean replied insistently. "I'll be right as rain in a few days."

Jess wondered who he was talking to, but he knew that he was lying through his teeth. The doctor had told him that with the danger his injuries provided if he exerted himself in any way, he was supposed to stay at the hospital for another week and then they would reassess his condition.

Apparently, whoever he was talking to knew he was lying as well because moments later she heard Dean curse. "That son of a bitch, I told Caleb not to tell you. Why? Because I didn't want you to holler at me."

She was torn between listening to the interaction and leaving so Dean could have his privacy when Dr. Fuller walked by and greeted her.

"Good morning, Jessica," he said warmly.

As she stumbled around for a response, Jess heard Dean say quickly, "I gotta go, I'll talk to you later...Yes, I'll be more careful next time. Bye, Bobby."

Her face flushed red as she realized that she had been caught. Throwing a quick hello to Dr. Fuller, she took a breath before entering Dean's room with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine," Dean cut her off. He threw her a flirty smile, "So what brings you here this early? Just couldn't wait to see the more attractive brother?"

Jess's lips quirked slightly before responding, "Not quite, I wanted to get to know you better and learn more about you and Sam as kids." This was her way of broaching the subject. If Sam didn't tell Dean what he had told her, then this might be a way of figuring out if he was telling the truth.

"Well, Sam...he was a smart kid," Dean said lightly. "Boring, bookworm, virgin, you know...typical geek boy."

"And what about you?" She asked curiously.

Dean's eyebrow shot up suggestively and his lips formed a half-smile. "Definitely not a virgin. Why do you ask? Trying to pick the better brother?"

"Just curious," Jess replied, trying to keep the conversation light. "Sam said you guys moved around a lot, but he never told me why. Was your dad in the military?"

"He was once," Dean told her honestly. "We moved around for my dad's job."

"Which was?" Jess prodded.

"Mechanic," Dean replied shortly. Dean knew she was fishing and he knew what Sammy wanted him to do. However, it wasn't in him to just give out information about their family. They did what they did and they kept quiet about it.

"What kind of mechanic travels around the country and takes his two kids with him?" she asked.

Jess could feel the change in the room. Dean's eyes grew cold, his lips tightened. It was like someone had flipped a switch on him and he went from being an open book to Fort Knox. It made her wonder how much of the previous openness was a front to distract her.

"Traveling mechanic," he informed her coldly, "it's like the circus."

Jess tried to continue her line of questioning the way she had intended, but looking at Dean's cold stare, she found herself faltering. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to maintain eye contact with Dean and what she saw gave her the determination to slip in one last question. It was a glint, a glint that shown through the dangerous expression on his face.

A challenge.

Dean didn't want her asking questions, not at all, but at the same time, he wanted to see if she would be brave enough to do it. Knowing that she was currently being judged on how she handled this, even if he wasn't consciously testing her, Jess took a deep breath and jumped right into the question that had been plaguing her since the previous afternoon. "Does your family hunt monsters?"

Dean blinked at her for a moment before his faced morphed back into the playful one that had greeted her. "Now, why would you say something like that?"

It was Jess's turn to blink in confusion. She couldn't figure out Dean's personality or motives. "Yesterday, Sam said that your family..." she trailed off.

"Hunted monsters?" Dean supplied, his tone incredulous.

"Yeah," Jess confirmed, her voice soft and unsure. She had been starting to believe Sam's story, but Dean's reaction was pushing her in the opposite direction.

Dean warred with himself. The Winchester in him urged him to destroy the possibility of Jess knowing the truth. However, the big brother in him, the one that always bent to Sam's will, who had always sought to make sure his little brother was happy, wanted to reassure Jess that she wasn't crazy, that Sam was telling the truth.

"Well," Dean began indecisively, "Sammy always did have an overactive imagination." Dean stopped as he watched the defeat form in Jess's frame. He couldn't take it, he knew that if he went along with his instincts then Sammy would be crushed. Sam was finally allowing him in his presence, he didn't want to screw that up, didn't want to screw up Sam's relationship. "Listen," he said, nearly sighing, "I don't know much about this Sam, but the Sammy I knew wouldn't lie to someone he really cared about."

Jess sat up straighter, "So, it's true?" She asked, looking for conformation. The tight-lipped expression and uncomfortable shift told her just as much as words did. "You say that Sam isn't a liar, but he has kept all sorts of things from me. How do you explain that?"

Dean motioned to himself laying in the bed, "Sam had his reasons."

Jess sat there in the first comfortable silence she had experienced while in Dean's presence. She couldn't explain why she believed it when Dean told her that Sam was telling the truth. He had offered her no tangible proof, but for some reason, she knew that he would not admit to it if it weren't true. Curious, she asked, "So, what is it really like out there?"

Dean threw his hands up and shook his head no, "There is no way I'm touching that with a ten foot pole. Ask Sammy."

She was broken from her thoughts when Dean spoke up with a voice that she had not heard from him yet, disinterested...which she thought was strange. "So, why did Sammy drag you all the way up here?"

"He didn't drag me," she responded. "In fact, I think he would have preferred if I hadn't come at all."

"Well, I'm surprised he showed up at all," Dean let slip out before remembering to feign disinterest. "After all, he has to be busy at school."

"Actually, we are out on break right now. However, Sam did get a job at a second hand bookstore in Palo Alto and he was going to visit me and my family a bit later in the summer.

"Oh," Dean said thoughtfully. Then, jumping onto a safer topic than trying to figure out why Sammy had come to the hospital, Dean commented, "Sammy working in a bookstore...why am I not surprised?"

* * *

An hour later, a freshly showered Sam made his way into Saint Bartholomew's hospital. Apparently, he and Jess had taken to communicating via notes because when he had returned from his run he found a note from her saying she would be at the hospital.

A pang of trepidation ran through him as he realized why she was going to the hospital, to talk to Dean. Sam knew Dean's thoughts on the matter of telling Jess, so he was unsure if Dean would try to convince her that he had been lying or back him up. Taking the quickest shower he had taken since living with Dean meant that there was never any hot water, Sam was back out the door in ten minutes and at the hospital in fifteen.

The sounds that greeted him upon arrival were wholly unexpected, laughter. Jess was laughing. Easing himself closer to the door, Sam listened in the conversation.

"The next morning, he ran up to our dad with a chunk of hair in his hands!" Dean crowed animatedly, his amusement apparent.

Jess's laughter rang out and it hit Sam like a ton of bricks, he hadn't heard that sound in almost two weeks and up until that moment, he hadn't realized he had missed it so much.

"That was horrible," she admonished lightly.

"No," Dean countered, "it was payback."

Deciding to make his presence known before Dean came up with an even more embarrassing story, Sam knocked lightly and popped his head into the room. The laughter died immediately, silence took over for two seconds and then it rang out again as Jess burst out laughing and Dean chuckled lightly with an amused smile.

"Why do I have the feeling that this laughter is at my expense?" Sam asked wirily. Jess's laughter diminished until she and Sam were just staring at each other. A look of understanding was passed between the two and they knew that despite the unsure situation between them, they were now on the same page and could work it out from there.

Their moment was ruined by an exaggerated groan from the bed between them. They both turned to see the disgusted look on Dean's face as he threw out, "If I am stuck in this bed, at least make it so I don't have to witness any more chick-flick moments."

Sam's lips involuntarily broke into a smile, "Oh, you know you secretly love them," he ribbed Dean. Then, he happily observed, "You seem to be feeling better."

"It's the drugs," Dean informed him matter of factly.

"I like you like this, is there any way I could get them to give me a lifetime supply?"

"I will talk one of the nurses into giving you some if you can sneak me in a hamburger. They brought me something that they called food earlier. I swear man, if my injuries don't kill me, this crap will."

Sam faltered a moment at the thought of Dean dying, the image hitting a little too close to home. But, not wanting to ruin the mood, Sam knowingly told Dean, "Don't try to pretend that you don't like the jello. Especially if it was the red stuff. You always used to steal mine."

"That's just because it was your's," Dean replied slyly.

Jess watched as the brothers vaulted a verbal volleyball back and forth. She had never seen Sam quite like this. He had a sense of humor, it was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him, but usually it was a quiet kind. This however, was a whole different experience. Even though it had been years since they had really talked, Sam and Dean were able to fall back into the banter that they had to have had for most of their lives.

The trio hung out in companionable company for another two hours, Dean telling more stories, much to Sam's chagrin, jokes bouncing between the three of them, Jess telling Dean about some of the things Sam had gotten up to at Stanford. And they all avoided talking about hunting.

Things were going well until Jess asked what she thought was a harmless question. "What did your dad think of all this?" She asked after Sam had told her about the time that Dean kept Ashley Brooks out past her curfew and her dad had called the cops.

Sam and Dean avoided each others eyes and it was finally Sam who spoke up, knowing that Dean wasn't able to say anything that might make their dad sound bad.

"Dad was...busy," he supplied simply. "It was just me and Dean a lot of the time."

Dean was unable to stop the next words from coming out of his mouth, even though he knew it would kick-start a tirade from Sam, "Yeah, but he had a good reason for it."

It was like Sam was just waiting for Dean to come to their dad's defense, because he immediately responded with, "We were just kids, Dean. He should have taken a break from the Miller-time shift and been there for us!"

"Dad wasn't just out at bars drinking and you know it!" Dean countered. "He was busy looking for the thing that killed mom and helping people out along the way."

"Well, maybe he should have taken the time to help out his own family every once in a while!"

"I had it covered," Dean insisted indignantly.

"You shouldn't have had to worry about it. In case you have forgotten, you were a kid too. How many times did you have to decide whether to pay for the motel room or get more groceries when dad decided he was going to be longer than expected?"

Dean's jaw clenched, in response, he was about to give his thoughts on the matter when Sam plowed on.

"What about the time you hustled those guys and ended up with a broken arm? Or all the times you had to swipe food?" Sam shot out, forgetting in his righteous tirade that Jess was even in the room.

"Enough, Sam," Dean shot out angrily.

But, Sam couldn't help but add in one last damning piece of evidence against John. "He can't even be bothered to call when you're in the hospital because of a stupid job he sent you on!"

For a solid five seconds, there was no sound in the room, only the yelling that was going on through the stony glares that the brothers sent each other. Finally, it was broken by Dean's quiet, yet dangerous, "Get out."

Sam seemed to realized he went too far and attempted to backpedal, "Dean.."

"I said get out!" Dean shouted and attempted to sit up in bed. The pain of the movement evident on his face.

Jess moved towards the door as Sam remained indecisive about reaching out to help Dean and complying with his order. His decision was removed though when one of the nurses who had heard Dean's shout quickly came into the room and began ushering them out.

"I'm sorry, but I am going to need you to leave for now," she told them firmly. Once they were outside of the room, the nurse snapped the door closed, presumably to get Dean comfortable again and to check on his wounds.

"Damn it!" Sam shouted, ignoring the glares that were sent his way by the hospital staff.

"I'm sorry," Jess said quickly, "I didn't know that..."

"It's not your fault," Sam reassured, snapping out of his mood when he heard Jess's remorse. "Our dad has always been a touchy subject." Looking around, Sam noticed that they were still drawing attention; so, grabbing Jess's hand he said, "Let's get out of here for a while."

* * *

John threw one of his cell phones across the room in frustration. It had been four days since anyone had left a message updating him on Dean's status. Finally, he had given in to his need to know and had tried to call Caleb, who hadn't answered. John had tried him first because he was the most likely to have up to date information and because while he was close to Dean, he would probably just be glad that John had called. He tried Jim next, same result. Finally, after four days of avoiding it, he had given in and called Bobby.

No answer, but instead of radio silence, the message on Bobby's machine snarkily said, "If you're hearing this, I'm either busy or it's John. If it's the first, leave me a message, if it's the second, stop callin' me and get your sorry ass to the hospital."

John ran his hands through his hair for a moment, not realizing that this was a habit that his youngest had picked up as well. It only took him a couple of minutes to decide to make the trip west to South Dakota to see Bobby and get an update. After all, he might not be able to face his son, but he was perfectly capable of facing a crotchety old hunter.

Five hours later, John was pulling his enormous black truck into the entrance of Singer's Salvage Yard. He was hoping to catch the hunter off guard with his appearance, but apparently Bobby had an inkling that John would show up and met him on the front porch, a shot gun resting casually against his shoulder.

"I thought you'd be halfway to California by now," he drawled out as way of greeting.

"Just tell me what I want to know and I'll be out what's left of your hair," John countered.

Bobby pretended to think for a moment, "You know, I don't think I will. It wouldn't be that hard for you to get a hold of Sam and ask him yourself how Dean's doing. I know the boy called you, he let it slip a few days ago. But instead, you are choosing to be a selfish bastard."

John's teeth clenched together and he felt his anger...and shame, rise at Bobby's taunts. "Singer, you tell me right now or..."

"Or what?" Bobby questioned mockingly. "I ain't telling you shit. You give Sam a call or get your ass to a hospital to find out for yourself. And don't bother calling anyone else, we all decided this was the best option."

"You all decided?" John growled out, taking a threatening step forward, "He's my son, I have the right to know!"

Bobby lazily raised the shotgun, halting John's forward momentum. "They're your sons? You have a funny way of showing it. Besides, it ain't my job to tell you. You know how to get the information, so go do it."

John hesitated, trying to decide if he was faster than Bobby's already raised gun. Knowing that he wasn't, John fired off a final verbal shot. "They are my sons, and despite what you have deluded yourself into thinking over the years, they will always be MY sons. And if push came to shove, you know deep down who they would pick."

Bobby's grip tightened on the gun, "That may be true, but I know that you don't deserve those boys, never have. One day, they are both going to realize that and all you will have left is your obsession for revenge."

John took one more step forward and then quickly propelled himself backwards as a shotgun blast hit near his feet.

"You get gone and if you ever set foot on my property again, the next shot is going through your worthless hide!"

John glared at Bobby as he backed away towards his truck. He would never tell anyone, but one of the reasons he had told Bobby that the boys would choose him was because he honestly didn't know if they really would. John was aware of many of his faults, understood that all the times he had left the boys with friends or by themselves certainly hadn't ingratiated him with them. Dean in particular seemed to like when they were left at Bobby's; probably, John suspected, because Dean didn't have to worry about taking Sammy while he was there.

As he hit the end of Bobby's driveway, John contemplated his options, go find another hunt to keep him distracted, pick up his phone and give Sammy a call for the first time in years, or drive to California and see for himself how Dean was. Without flipping on his blinker, John tore out of Bobby's driveway, his mind made up.

* * *

Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you to all of the reviewers! You guys are amazing and every time an email notification popped up I became super excited to see if you guys were enjoying it. You also encouraged me to get to work on another chapter. This chapter actually took a different direction than I was originally intending. However, I do like how it turned out.

So, like I think I mentioned before, I am heading back out camping on Tuesday, which means no update from Tuesday-Monday. However, I do have more written from my last camping trip (including what John is doing). The plan is to get that to you guys before I leave, so wish me luck!

Enjoy!

* * *

Dean was already agitated, so when Caleb barreled into his room with a, "Hey, kid!" It was all Dean could do to keep his response to a ground out, "What do you want?"

"Woah, Caleb said, a bit surprised with his reception, "what's got your panties in a twist?"

Dean refused to look at him, making sure his walls were defended against any attackers. "Nothing," he said moodily before adopting a slightly more personable tone. "What are you doing here?"

"No, no," Caleb insisted, unwilling to let Dean's mood go. "Something has you all bothered. I haven't see you this way since Sam..." Caleb stopped then, realizing this had something to do with Sam. "What'd he say?"

"It's nothing," Dean repeated, his tone leaving no room for more questions. But, Caleb had never been one to listen to orders.

"It's something, so spill," Caleb ordered.

"What? Are you going to hold me while I cry on your shoulder and tell you how mean my brother is?" Dean mocked, trying to make Caleb uncomfortable so he would back off.

"If that's what it takes," Caleb told him seriously. There were few people left in this world that he gave a damn about; Dean Winchester was one of them. From the first defensive glare that snot-nosed, freckle-faced kid had sent him, Caleb knew that he would do just about anything in order to protect him. What he didn't know at the time was just how much Dean would manage to worm his way into Caleb's heart. But, there he was, still sporting those same freckles, still a smart-mouthed, smooth talker, and still calling all of Caleb's protective traits to the surface.

Dean fell silent again. He was silent for so long that Caleb actually began to wonder if he was going to talk at all. Finally, when he spoke, his tone was already defeated, as if he knew the answer to his question before he asked. "How many times have you guys tried to get a hold of my dad?"

It was Caleb's turn to fall silent. In his head, he was cursing Sam. They had agreed that none of them were going to bring up John, at least until someone had heard from him. But, Sam just couldn't help it. It probably only took some slight mention of John and Sam had to immediately use the most damning evidence for their dad's parenting ability...and the one that would hurt Dean the most.

Knowing that Dean would see through any of his lies, the kid an annoying knack for doing that, and knowing that receiving a lie from him would only hurt Dean more, Caleb told him the truth. "A lot. He hasn't been answering his phone." Caleb left out the part about their new plan, just in case it didn't work.

Dean fought to keep his expression neutral; he didn't want Caleb to see how much his admission stung. He had suspected that they would have tried to get a hold of his dad, but it was easier to accept when it wasn't laid out in front of him. "Oh," was all he could get out.

"Look, Dean," Caleb started, but really, what could he say that was going to make this better? He decided on, "You know how distracted your dad gets when he is on a hunt."

Even with Caleb's excuses, Dean couldn't help but wonder what John would do if it was Sam lying there. Growing up, Dean had grudgingly accepted that Sam needed more looking after than he did. After all, he was younger. But as he grew older, Dean realized that he still craved the attention and the protection that been handed out to Sammy. Hell, even when they were fighting, which was most of the time, their dad seemed to care more about Sam than he ever did about him.

Still, Caleb was doing his best to make Dean feel better, so Dean threw him a bone. "I know, it isn't a big deal anyways. I'll be out of here soon enough, there's no point in him coming out here for nothing."

"Yeah," Caleb agreed, not believing a word of Dean's logic, but willing to let him spin the story.

The two moved on to lighter topics, like the coming up Cowboys' game and work that Dean was planning on doing to the Impala. An hour later, Caleb decided to approach the subject that had brought him to the hospital to begin with.

"So, kid," Caleb started, ignoring Dean's eye-roll at the nickname Caleb had coined for him a long time ago. "I got a call from Jim, apparently he's caught wind of a case up in Washington. He asked me to check it out if you were doing okay. I don't want you to think that I am just up and leaving you here, but I am the closest hunter and..."

"You should go," Dean broke into Caleb's ramble. "Better than sitting here and keeping my miserable ass company."

Caleb scrutinized Dean, trying to figure out whether or not he would really be okay with him going. "Are you sure? Because I could stay."

"And mother hen me?" Dean asked with a look of horror. "No, thanks. I already have one Sam hanging around." Dean ignored the voice in his head that asked how long would he actually stick around and brought up the fight that had just happened. "Besides, there's this cute nurse on the third shift, I think she might have a thing for bald guys and you are ruining my chances with her."

"Like you had any to begin with," Caleb poked fun at him. "You might want to wait until your face returns to normal before you try picking up any ladies."

Dean's face lit up for a moment in amusement before he grew serious again. "Really, go to Washington. I've got my phone, you can call every hour to check in on me if that makes you feel better." Dean lightly mocked Caleb's concern.

"Careful, or I'll make it every half an hour," Caleb threatened.

"Yeah, yeah. Go, get your lazy ass up to Washington and do your job."

Caleb stood up and put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Listen to the doctor, don't you dare check yourself out of here early, and call me if you need anything."

Dean nodded his understanding and then issued his own demands, "Try to avoid getting yourself killed up there, I won't be there this time to be the monster's punching bag."

"Ha ha," Caleb deadpanned, the thought of his part in Dean's injuries silently cutting through him like a knife. "I'll call you later," he ended with a squeeze to Dean's arm.

Dean kept a slight smile on his face until Caleb had walked out of his room. The moment the door was shut, Dean's face fell and he once again felt like he was alone in this.

* * *

Caleb bypassed his car as he left the hospital; he had an errand to run before he left town. It only took him a couple of minutes to walk to the hotel that he knew Jess and Sam were staying at. Only another one minute to get to their room, and three seconds of standing there before he knocked on the door.

Jess opened the door without looking through the peep hole and was surprised to see Caleb standing there. "Hey, Caleb," she greeted.

"Hi, Jess," he returned. Over the last couple of days, he had come to enjoy talking with Sam's girlfriend. The fact that Sam had told her about hunting had come up during his recent talk with Dean, and that made him like her even more. She hadn't run for the hills in fear, she was willing to trust Sam and Dean, and he had watched her in Dean's room, helping to bridge the gap between Sam and Dean when things became awkward.

However, he had come to the hotel for a reason. "Is Sam here?"

Jess didn't need to respond, because Sam had just walked up with two iced teas in hand.

"Hey, Caleb," Sam mirrored Jess's greeting.

"Sam," Caleb was significantly less warm to Sam. "We need to talk."

Sam's lips tightened and he handed the drinks to Jess. "I'll be right back," he told her.

Caleb paced back and forth in front of Sam, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his stance defensive. "You," Caleb started, pausing a moment to point his finger at Sam before continuing to pace. A few more hurried laps in front of Sam and Caleb was ready to begin again. "You are a selfish asshole," Caleb accused simply.

Sam's muscles tensed up, but remained silent, knowing that if he interrupted Caleb now, he would just get it even worse.

"Are you just incapable of letting your anger go for two minutes? Is your pissing match with your dad really worth it? The two of you...you are exactly the same, only concerned with how things affect you. You never stop to consider that Dean is the one who is put in the middle of it, who is left to pick up the pieces when you are done throwing stones. You just won't stop to see how this stupid, petty behavior is affecting your brother."

Sam opened his mouth to refute Caleb's accusations. It wasn't like that. He knew that he was a bit touchy about his dad and Dean's insistence in defending him. But, he knew that Dean wasn't that bothered by it, the fighting had been a norm in their family since he had hit his teenage years.

"Don't talk," Caleb ordered, his finger coming up again. "You don't get to talk anymore. That stunt you pulled in the hospital earlier was out of line. I don't care how you do it, but you are going to fix it. And I swear to God if I find out that you pull something like that again while Dean is recovering, I will kick your ass all the way back to Palo Alto. Understand?"

Clenching his teeth together, Sam ground out, "I don't need your threats, Caleb."

"Apparently, you do," Caleb responded. "This is not a debate. You grow up and start acting like you actually give a damn about family or you go in, apologize to Dean and tell him that you need to be heading back home. If you are just going to drudge up issues, then it would be best if you weren't here at all."

"You know I respect you," Sam told him, in a tone that implied that at the moment he didn't. "But, you don't get to tell me what to do where my brother is concerned."

Caleb's eyebrow shot up, "You think? You want to know what I think? I think that you gave up the rights to that argument when you left."

"I went to college!" Sam nearly shouted, his arms opening wide as he tried to express his frustration. "I just wanted to go to school, in any other family that would have been a good thing!"

"It wasn't that you wanted to go to college, it's how you cut everyone out when you did." Caleb softened his tone when he saw the hesitation enter into Sam's eyes, "Look, Sam. I respect you for coming here, even though it went against your plan. But, I have looked out for you boys for years, and for the past few years I have watched as you and your dad have put Dean through the ringer." Caleb ignored the nagging voice that was telling him he was betraying Dean's confidences, even though Dean had never actually said anything. "So, right now, you need to put aside all that anger and focus on getting your brother out of that hospital."

Sam held onto his tension as he stared at Caleb, but soon he felt it ebbing away. Even if he didn't agree with Caleb's argument, he did agree that the priority was getting Dean out of the hospital and back on his feet. "Yeah, you're right," he conceded.

"Good," Caleb breathed out, glad that he didn't have to keep going. He felt way to much like Bobby at that moment, trying to keep the brothers from fighting. "Well, I just let Dean know, but I am heading out of town for a bit. There's a job up in Washington. Hopefully, it won't take long, but I need you to watch out for your brother while I am gone and let me know if he tries anything stupid."

"Will do," Sam acquiesced, subdued by Caleb's previous lashing as well as the order to look after Dean. He honestly couldn't remember a time when someone had told him that. He remembered, more times than he could count, someone giving that order to Dean, but he had never been on the receiving end of it. Was that slightly suffocating feeling normal? The barely hidden panic as he worried about failure? The urge to run from it all, abandon the responsibility? If they were normal, Dean had done an amazing job at hiding them all of these years. Unconsciously squaring his shoulders, Sam nodded with more confidence, it was his turn to take the roll of protector. "I'll update you. Be safe up there."

"Thanks," Caleb replied. Whether he meant for the updates, the promise to watch out for Dean, the well-wishing, or all three, Caleb didn't clarify. "I'll talk to you later. Tell Jess bye for me." As a parting shot, Caleb called over his shoulder, "And good luck keeping your brother in that bed!

* * *

Sam didn't make an appearance at the hospital until the next day. He knew from experience that he and Dean needed time to cool off before they attempted talking again. Jess had decided to let the brothers have some time alone and was currently at the hotel, making use of its hot tub.

Nodding in greeting to the nurse on duty, Sam peeked his head into Dean's room, ready to retract it if something should come flying towards him.

Dean didn't look away from the game that was on, "Stop standing there and come in. I promise I won't throw anything."

Sam eased around the door and hesitantly made his way into the room. "How'd you know it was me and not some nurse?"

"Who says I didn't think it was a nurse?" Dean questioned. "According to Linda, I've gotten to be 'quite grouchy' lately."

Sam smiled lightly, "You never were one for staying still. However, if you keep harassing the nurses, they're going to stop falling for your charm."

Dean scoffed, "I have them eating out of the palm of my hand." Dean's stomach rumbled noisily. "Speaking of eating, you wouldn't by chance happen to have a hamburger hidden on you, would you?"

Sam laughed at this. He recognized that, like his comment about nurses, this was Dean's attempt to move past yesterday's argument. Unlike normal families, the Winchesters did not do apologies very well. "No, but I will see if Jess can bring you one later."

"Good, because I'm starving. A man can only live on so much jello," Dean replied.

The ticking of the clock could be heard as Sam and Dean searched for a topic that wouldn't start another shouting match between them. Taking a deep breath, Sam released it heavily, blowing his hair off of his face.

"Dude, you need a hair cut. You look like a girl," Dean informed Sam, his tone light.

"I do not," Sam replied, reaching up to touch his hair. "Besides, there's nothing you can do about it."

"Have you forgotten the last time you told me that?" Dean questioned, his eyebrow raised slightly. When Sam's expression turned into exaggerated annoyance, Dean continued. "It ended with me sitting on you as I cut it all off. You had to wear a hat for weeks!"

"Whatever," Sam grumbled, smiling unwillingly at the memory. "It's a good thing you never became a barber, I have never had a worse hair cut."

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Dean quipped.

"You're lucky you are in the hospital. I am thinking that your hair could benefit from a razor at the moment," Sam threatened lightly.

"Psh, I look good no matter what," Dean replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Sam threw Dean's question back at him, then dodged out of the way of the pillow that was thrown at him.

The forgotten football game on tv made itself known as a touchdown was scored, breaking the moment that they had been having.

"You wanna stay and watch the game?" Dean asked nonchalantly, pretending that Sam's answer didn't matter.

"Sure," Sam replied after a moment of trying to figure out what Dean would prefer. Turning his chair, so that he and Dean were both facing towards the tv, Sam threw his feet up on the edge of Dean's bed. Then, for the first time since he had turned sixteen and decided that he didn't have the time, Sam settled in to watch a game with his older brother.

* * *

Let me know what you thought! Next chapter will have John in it, I promise!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Huge thank you to What You See in the Shadows, babyreaper, snseriesfan, and an anonymous review for the reviews for chapter 7! Your reviews brought smiles to my face and I am really glad to see that people are liking it still. This chapter was really difficult for me to write, I don't know if I got the characterizations quite right, but this was the best I could do if I wanted to get it out before I left for my next trip. Please let me know what you are thinking and I promise that I have a story arc until the end all planned out, I just have to write.

Enjoy!

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John's truck rumbled into the parking lot of St. Bartholomew's Hospital. It had taken him three days to get there. He probably could have done it in a bit less, but his apprehension about coming had him making more pit stops than usual. But, he was finally there. This was the place that held his boy's life in their hands...it wasn't even significant to have a parking garage.

As he switched off the engine, John mentally ran over a list of Dean's aliases, trying to remember which one he was using last. The last name that popped into his head was Perry. He hoped it was right, because no one had given him the name Dean was under so that he couldn't call and check on him without contacting one of the boys.

Opening the door and jumping down, John self-consciously shifted his jacket around his frame, squared his shoulder, and strode into the hospital like he had no doubts.

It wasn't difficult to find where he needed to be; there was only one main desk. "Hello, I'm looking for a patient, his name is Dean..."

John didn't need to worry about the last name because the moment he said Dean, the woman's face lit up. "Dean? Yes, of course, just head to your left, straight to terminal B, and he is in room 124."

"Thank you," John said with an amused smile.

The boy was in the damn hospital and he was still managing to charm women. In fact, he was probably using the fact that he was injured to help his game. Dean's charm was something that was a characteristic unto himself. Sam, he could make people empathize with him, get them to open up with one glance. He could use his bulky frame and personality to intimidate people. But, Dean...Dean could make people fall in love with him, want to protect him, do everything in their power to earn a smile or cheeky comment from him. He was a far better people person than he or Sam would ever be.

He slowed as he noticed the room number getting closer to 124. He stopped completely before he reached Dean's room and listened, surprised to hear Dean's amused chuckle. It had been a long time since he had heard Dean laugh, at least a real one. Dean had mastered the art of the fake laugh when they were on jobs, but once they returned to the motel, the humorous side of him disappeared.

Then, a woman's voice broke out, "You're going to get me in trouble. Do you know how hard it was getting that passed Linda? She would have me thrown out of here in a heartbeat if she found out I gave that to you!"

John surmised that Dean was currently talking to a nurse since there wasn't a lot of women in their lives, and Dean didn't know Ellen and Jo.

Dean was laughing and apparently teasing girls...he had to be out of worst of it. John could just leave and Dean would never have to know he was here. He was about to turn around and sneak out when a third voice caught his attention.

"Dean's kinda like a kid, he needs to smother his fries in ketchup."

"Hey, it's a well known fact that french fries need ketchup. It isn't my fault that Jess forgot it!"

"Fine, fine," the woman replied. "I'll get you your freaking ketchup."

John was so surprised to hear his boys joking around together that he didn't have time to move away from the door before the woman walked out. Well, collided with him actually.

"Sorry," she instantly apologized as she rebounded off of him. John was not prepared for the recognition that sprung to her eyes. "John?" she blurted out before he could stop her.

All sound seemed to cease as the boys went silent at Jess's question and John froze. Then, like someone hitting the play button, Dean could be heard urgently, even desperately, shouting as a chair fell over, "Sam, don't!"

Less then two seconds later, John was staring at his enraged youngest son. Even though it was not the time and definitely not the place, John took a second to glance over Sam. This had been the closest he had been to him in over two years. Sam had let his hair grow out until it was shaggy around his eyes. As a kid, he had always let it grow out to the point that John was threatening it with a bowie knife. Apparently, he had taken his new freedom and run with it.

"Jess, go back into the room," Sam nearly ordered, his gaze not leaving his dad's.

Jess paused as she listened to Dean's almost frantic yell, "Sammy, don't do this!"

She then took in the stances of the two men that she stood between. Sam was obviously looking for an argument, she could tell by his posture, his breathing, and the stubborn glint that had already made it to his eyes. John on the other hand, looked fairly relaxed, but she could tell there was an underlying tension, like an electrical current that was just waiting to spark.

"Maybe we should all move into the room," she suggested, aware that the hospital staff loved Dean and wouldn't take much more arguing in his presence if it was going to upset him.

John was about to tell her to mind her own business when Dean's pleas went quiet for a second and then they could hear a hiss of pain followed by, "Son of a bitch!"

That was all the motivation they needed before the three of them hurried back into the room to see Dean clutching at his side, a sheen of sweat breaking across his forehead.

Sam instantly went up to the bed and laid a reassuring hand on Dean's shoulder. "Relax man, breath through it."

Jess watched in concern and asked Sam softly, "Do you need me to go and get a nurse?"

Sam hesitated, but Dean spoke up through gritted teeth, "No, it's fine."

During all of this, John just took in his oldest's appearance. He couldn't move right now if someone yelled fire. With the way they were joking around earlier, John expected Dean to be a little banged up, the reports of his injuries highly exaggerated. He was certainly not expecting Dean's left eye to still be swollen mostly shut, the coloring around it a mixture of ugly purples and blues, the set of stitches that cut across the top of his forehead near his hairline, the bright pink cast that adorned his arm, the wheezing gasps that were being pulled from his lips, his good hand curled over his ribs, obviously trying to protect an unseen injury.

"I'm fine," he insisted again as his breathing regulated slightly and he was able to relax onto the bed a bit. Once he was resting again, he swatted Sam's hand away.

"We should get a nurse to check on your stitches," Sam mentioned.

"Nothing ripped, I just moved wrong," Dean informed him, ignoring the pain that was still slashing through his body. "Now, stop mothering me."

It took a shift from John for Sam and Dean to remember why Dean was hurting in the first place.

"How you doing, Ace?" John asked, fighting back the feeling that he was an intruder in the room.

Sam jumped in before Dean could answer, "Why do you care all of a sudden?"

Dean tiredly tried again, "Sammy, just drop it."

"No, Dean," Sam insisted. "We have tried to get a hold of him since the night of the hunt and it has been radio silence. He hasn't cared enough to check in until now, why should it change?"

John grit his teeth, he knew Sam was right and his resulting anger was more out of shame than anything else. "I was in the middle of a job, I couldn't just abandon it!"

"No, instead you just abandoned your son while he was in the hospital," Sam spat out.

"I didn't abandon him," John retorted, "I..."

"Oh really?" Sam interrupted him. "What would you call it then? Letting him tough it out? Making him into a stronger soldier?"

Jess's gaze left the two arguing Winchesters and fell on the one that was still laying on the bed, trying to get their attention. "Will you two knock it off? I'm sitting right here. Dad! Sammy!"

While Dean was looking more and more distressed by the recent turn of events, Jess had a feeling he had been in this position before, the mediator between two stubborn men, desperately trying to keep his small family from tearing itself apart.

What finally drove her to action was Dean starting to struggle to sit up once more. "Enough!"

John stopped mid-sentence, as if he had forgotten that Jess was in the room. Now that she was the center of his attention she looked really familiar. Because of the situation, John hadn't really take the time to look at her, but now he recognized her as the blond girl that he had seen Sam with when he had checked on him last.

Jess blushed as she realized that she had the attention of all the Winchester men. However, she didn't falter under their stares. "You are both here because Dean was hurt, but the moment the two of you are in the same room you are at each other's throats. Honestly, what does it even matter that it took your dad so long to get here, he is here now."

"Yeah, but..." Sam began.

"No," she said assertively. "This can wait until later. And you," she turned towards John.

Sam and Dean watched on with rapid interest as she faced their father. Licking her lips nervously as John returned her stare with a hard one of his own, she fought to keep her voice strong, "You...should have been here before, so uh...you'll just have to deal with the fallout from that. Basically, you should both just stop acting like spoiled children..." she got progressively quieter as she continued to ramble, unable to see the end of her thought. "You just have to...remember why you are really here."

Having said more than her fill, Jess allowed her face to redden even more and she shifted uncomfortably at the continued stares.

"Marry me."

The three standing occupants looked towards Dean, his tone and facial expressions showing his awe.

"No, seriously. Marry me. I have never seen someone stop them like that. Once they get going, they usually have to break at least two things before they stop." Dean hid behind his quippy humor to express his gratitude for Jess's help. He was really glad that both his dad and his brother were finally here, but he didn't think that he could handle their arguing. Not to mention, the more they argued, the more likely it was that they would end up on the college issue. Also, Dean was frankly tired of being a pawn in their war against each other.

It was John and Sam's turn to look uncomfortable and a bit sheepish about their behavior.

Feeling like a chastised schoolboy, John cleared his throat and addressed Dean, "Well, you are certainly sounding like yourself...even if you look like hell."

"Ah, thanks dad," Dean grumbled. "That's what every guy likes to hear." While Dean complained about his dad's backhanded comment, a warm feeling spread through him at his dad's observation...even if it was just because he was here to make it.

John needed to find some way to explain his absence to Dean, but as he glanced between Dean and Sam and...Sam's girlfriend, he was unable to voice any of his excuses and he didn't know how to clear out the room. Thank god, Sam's girlfriend (he would really have to figure out her name) seemed to speak Winchester body language because after his third circuit around the room with his eyes, she spoke up. "Well, I am sorry, but I am starving. I brought Dean that hamburger and completely forgot about me and Sam. We are going to go and grab some lunch."

"We are?" Sam asked, not catching on to the sudden change in topics.

"Yes," Jess persisted, slipping her hand into his and trying to turn him towards the door.

"I don't think," Sam began, not wanting to leave Dean and not quite ready to let his anger towards his dad die down.

"We'll see you later," she cut Sam off, steering him towards the door determinedly. Before Sam knew what had happened, he was outside of Dean's room.

John looked at the closed door with an amused glint in his eyes. She sure was something, she just managed to take control in a room full of hard-headed Winchester men. However, he now realized that he was in a room alone with Dean and he knew he had to face the source of his recent nightmares. Turning around, John attempted to exude confidence, but the almost broken expression he caught on Dean's face had that confidence faltering. Although, he did not have to face it long because as soon as Dean realized that John had turned around, he did what he did best, put on his mask.

"So, Ace...how are you doing?"

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Not a huge cliffie, but it needed to happen because I need some time to plan out this conversation and really get the characterizations back on track. I will write while I am gone and update as soon as I return. Any feedback on this chapter would be wonderful!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hey, everyone! Thanks for the reviews, once again, you guys are amazing! While camping I actually managed to finish the first draft of this story. As usual, reviews help me write it up and edit it fast. ;) I hope you guys enjoy!

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Sam moodily kicked at a rock on the sidewalk as he followed Jess to a little restaurant called the Southern Kitchen, which boasted the best food this side of the Mississippi. As Jess pulled open the door, they walked in to find red checkered tablecloths, a rooster theme, and a display case that contained 'The World's Best Pie', according to the handwritten sign. Sam couldn't help but think that this was exactly the type of place that Dean would love. He let Jess talk to the waitress, he wasn't in the mood to talk to Jess, let alone some stranger. However, his manners refused to let him ignore the friendly smile the elderly woman gave him as they sat down, but his smile fell as soon as she walked away.

For her part, Jess ignored Sam's mood by browsing over the menu, making note of the different things she might want to get. From past experience, Jess knew that Sam had to be the one to break the silence, otherwise she would get nothing out of him. She was choosing her drink when Sam cleared his throat. Glancing up over her menu, Jess made her expression as open as possible.

"About what happened back there," Sam began, "I didn't mean for it to go like that."

Jess had to wait to respond as their waitress came back and took their order. After they rattled off their order, Jess scrutinized Sam, trying to decide how to handle the conversation. "Why did it?"

Sam slid the salt shaker back and forth between his hands as he attempted to stare a hole into the table. "I dunno," he supplied weakly.

"Really?" Jess questioned.

Sam shoved the shaker particularly hard and did nothing to stop it as it fell to the table. "No, not really." He paused, "Jess, I don't know if I can just lay all of this out there. My family...we don't talk about things much and we certainly don't talk to others about issues between us."

"Well, just tell me whatever you are comfortable with," Jess offered. It stung a little that even though they had been dating for almost two years and Sam had revealed the big family secret, that she was still considered an outside when it came to the emotional stuff. But, this wasn't about her, it was about Sam letting go of whatever animosity he was holding on to.

Sam set the salt shaker right side up, he rolled his shoulders agitatedly and ground out, "It's just, I see my dad and I am instantly so angry."

"Why?" Jess asked.

"I don't know," he started, but gnawed on his lip a moment before adding. "It wasn't always like this. When I was younger, I used to run to the window every time I heard footsteps, hoping that it would be him. Dean would make so much fun of me, always reminding me that dad said he would be a while and it had only been two hours since he had left. It never stopped me though, I always had to check just to make sure. Really, the only time I got mad at him was when he said that Dean and I couldn't go trick or treating on Halloween. We begged him, but he said that he was going to be out of town so we had to stay inside. That was it."

Sam took a drink of water, still slightly hesitant to continue, but Jess looked so willing to listen that he just wanted to get it all out. "And then, after being gone for a week, he came in late night. I was eleven, Dean was fifteen. Dean had made me go to sleep, but he had stayed awake, promising to let me know when Dad got home...only, he didn't. There was a loud pounding at the door and Dean had instantly gotten up and opened it. I pretended like I was asleep to keep Dean from getting annoyed with me. Dad had come stumbling in, smelling like he had fallen into a brewery. Through almost closed eyes, I watched as Dean caught him underneath the arm and led him to the edge of the bed and gently pushed him down. Dean didn't waste any time tearing off dad's boots, but I could tell Dean was angry. Dad had left us alone for three days and when he came back, it was obvious that he was out at a bar when he could have been taking care of us. For some reason, this was Dean's trigger. For the first time that I can remember, Dean yelled at him, blatantly standing up to him. He didn't get very far into his passionate speech when dad reached out and backhanded him hard enough to send him stumbling. I was a coward, frozen in bed while Dean reached up to touch his cheek in shock."

Sam shook his head, he hadn't told anyone this story before. One of the only people he would have told was Bobby and if he had told Bobby that John hit Dean, he was afraid that he would be completely parentless. And while John wasn't the best dad, Sam didn't want him dead. "My dad is a downright bastard with more faults than I can count most days, but when we weren't training, he never laid a hand on us, especially out of anger. God, I can still see the betrayal on Dean's face, he worshipped our dad, still does, and his hero was a drunk who just hit him. Dad seemed to realize what he had done the moment his hand connected with Dean's face, but it was too late to take it back, or so I thought. Without another word, Dean had turned his back on my dad and curled up on the couch. I laid there for hours, thinking of all the changes the morning would bring. But, the next morning, even as Dean was sporting a bruised cheek, the two of them were acting like nothing had happened. No apologies were said, Dean was back to doing everything dad told him, and I was livid. Dean was my older brother, my infallible, strong, never-back down-from-a-fight brother, and he just let my dad get away with hitting him. I was made at both of them. That night opened up my eyes to the relationship between my dad and Dean and the more I saw, the more I came to despise my dad."

"So, your anger at your dad is on Dean's behalf?" Jess asked him, trying to figure out where he was coming from.

"Yes and no," Sam answered, visibly uncomfortable. "It started out that way, but I promised myself that I would never be like Dean, I would never just let my dad run my life and follow orders like a good little soldier."

"You think Dean's weak?"

"I..." Sam stopped. Did he think Dean was weak? All those times he had stood up for Sam, gone without food, sacrificed his own education and stepped up to hunt so that Sam wouldn't have to sacrifice his. "No," he decidedly told her, "except for where my dad's involved."

"How old was Dean when your mom died?"

"He was four."

"And your dad wasn't a hunter then?" Jess asked, even though she knew the answer, "He was different?"

"Dean used to tell me stories about when they would play baseball and go to the zoo, but he stopped as we got older."

Jess let the silence stretch on for a moment, wanting to make sure Sam was really listening. "Have you ever stopped to consider that Dean just remembered your dad the way he used to be and he was just trying to get him to make a reappearance? Be that same doting father he was before your mom died?"

Sam shifted. No, that thought had never actually popped into his head. He never took the time to consider why Dean treated their dad the way he did, just that he never wanted to be like him. Feeling kind of silly, he wanted to get Jess to understand how him and his dad got to the point where they couldn't even get along for five minutes. "Dean may have those memories, but I don't. Most of what I remember about my dad growing up was him being a drill sergeant and I was so determined to not be like Dean. As I grew up, I found myself balking at everything my dad wanted. I wanted nothing more than to get away from him, so when I reached high school, I started looking into colleges."

The next part of the story was one of the hardest because it was when his relationship with Dean began to be strained. "We were hunting in Nebraska when Dean was looking for one of his shirts in my bag while I was in the shower. I got out the shower and walked out when he threw college brochures at my face. Literally rolled them up and pelted them at me. Thankfully, our dad was grabbing some food at the time because just throwing them wasn't enough, he then went on yelling about how I was betraying our family. He wasn't anywhere near done when I heard our dad's footsteps coming towards the room. I panicked and begged Dean not to tell him about the catalogs. I knew that while Dean's berating hurt, my dad would tear me a new one. Dean used that panic to get me to promise not to think anymore about the college thing. I promised, I couldn't help it. So, from then on, I kept my interest in college to myself."

"Dean didn't want you to go to college?" Jess asked, shifting her food around her plate.

"I don't think it was that simple," Sam replied thoughtfully. "I don't think Dean wanted me to leave the family because he didn't want me to be somewhere that he couldn't watch out for me."

Protecting Sam was the main reason for Dean disliking the college plan, but there was also a hidden selfish reason for it. Dean didn't want Sam to go because he was worried that if Sam left, then John would not be far behind. He had spent so long following John's orders and trying to gain the affection that seemed to be handed out to Sam, that he had convinced himself that his dad was only sticking around because Sam was there.

"When I applied for college, I didn't really think that I would get in, we moved around so much. But, then I got my acceptance letter from Stanford," Sam said, almost in dismay. "I had lied to Dean, managed to keep it from everyone. I kept the letter to myself for weeks until I worked up the nerve to tell my dad I was going to Stanford. I thought he was going to tie me to a chair to prevent me from leaving. And Dean, Dean didn't say anything. I think a part of me wishes that he had, but despite my attempts at explaining myself, he wouldn't even look at me. So, when dad gave me the ultimatum to stay or leave and never come back, I figured I didn't have anything to lose. And I know it's mostly my fault, but that night I began to blame my dad for making me lose my brother. It was my choice not to talk to him, but I knew what he would say and it was like having my dad's words being parroted through Dean's mouth. Despite our dad's flaws, Dean had become a carbon copy of him and I couldn't stand it!"

Jess wanted to shake him, wanted to shake them all actually. Maybe they just couldn't see it, maybe they had to be an outsider looking in, but she could tell that deep down they all cared about each other and were often doing things that were meant to be in each other's best interest, even if it tore them apart. Sam started being angry at John for Dean's sake, Dean fought to keep Sam with them, John...well she still couldn't figure out a reason why John had stayed away from the hospital, but judging by the brief flash of affection she had seen when he checked over Sam and the look of concern on his face when he saw Dean, she knew that he cared about them. Instead of throwing all of that out there, aware that Sam would refuse to see it, Jess went with, "You haven't lost Dean, Sam. I talk to Luke and Kyle all the time, and I don't think we have the relationship that you and Dean still have."

Sam thought that over. It had been really surprising that they had fallen back into the same childish banter that they had always had. In fact, it was better than the six months leading up to Sam's announcement. He'd been so torn up over lying to Dean that he had not enjoyed any of Dean's attempts to make him laugh.

"But, how long will it last?" He wondered out loud. "Jess, I am going to go back to Stanford, what will happen then?"

"You don't have to cut him out of your life, Sam. It is possible to have both college and your brother," she reasoned.

Sam ran his hands through his hair. "No, I can't!" He'll mention a hunt or need my help and I will have to choose between taking a final or making sure my brother doesn't end up back at the hospital or worse. If I choose my final, I will hate myself and spend the entire time worrying. if I choose Dean, then when I'm done with the hunt, I won't have college. I have to pick one!"

* * *

_"So, how you doing, Ace?"_

"How am I doing?" Dean asked, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice. "I'm lying in a damn hospital bed, dad. How do you think I'm doing?"

Sam was right, Dean did want to please his dad, but even that deep seeded urge to please couldn't keep Dean from being hurt that it took this long for his dad to show up.

John bristled at Dean's tone, even if it was deserved, John's instant reaction was to reprimand Dean. However, this was not a snarky sixteen year old boy staring at him, this was his twenty-four year old son. That thought his him like a ton of bricks and rendered him unable to respond to Dean's inquiry. His boy was no longer a boy, nothing but a shared goal really tied them together now. At any moment, Dean could pull a Sam and disappear from his life and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Clearing his throat, John did his best to quell his wayward thoughts. "I've seen you look better, that's for sure But, you seem to be doing a good job with the nurses."

Dean let a cheeky grin grace his face, "I always do well with women. It's Sam who needs the help."

John chuckled, "I don't know about that. He seems to be doing pretty well with that girl of his."

"Jess," Dean supplied, knowing that his dad hadn't taken the time to figure it out and probably wouldn't. "And yeah, she's something alright. She seems to be good for him, keeps him from being too serious all the time."

"That's good," John agreed, the conversation tapering out.

Dean turned his gaze to the painting on the far wall. It was some ugly scene of a cottage by a lake, apparently it was meant to be soothing. Regardless, it had become Dean's focal point lately. He had tried, tried joking about nurses and Sammy, but he couldn't stop his thoughts. He attempted a nonchalant tone, but the question came out sounding far more broken than he wanted, "Where were you, dad? What took you do long?"

John's heart tightened at Dean's questions, and sharing Dean's stance on chick-flick moments, he knew that they must have been weighing heavily on him. "I was on a hunt," he supplied simply.

Dean broke away from the picture and turned an anguished gaze towards John. His voice cracked embarrassingly as he pushed out, "You couldn't call?"

"You know how hunts get," John reminded, doing his best to ignore the way Dean's face expressed his pain. It wasn't often that Dean let his mask down long enough for him to see what his eldest was really going through and frankly, as horrible as it was, John was glad that Dean was so skilled at hiding things; it meant that John didn't have to deal with the fallout.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, "and I know that if I went that long without checking in with you, you would hand my ass to me."

John was surprised, it wasn't often that Dean wouldn't accept his excuses. He feared that if he didn't get Dean to forgive him, he would have issues. So, in an attempt to keep at least one son in his life, John did something he was not proud of, play on Dean's strong sense of guilt. "Look, Dean. I'm sorry I didn't get here until now, but I thought that the last case I was on would lead me closer to the demon that killed your mother. After all we have been through, all the years and all the pain, would you really want me to give up the chance to gain some ground?"

"Of course not," Dean immediately responded. But...even though he understood the importance of finding the demon, it still stung. "It's just..." he looked at his dad who was meeting his gaze head on. How could he tell his dad that no, it wasn't as important? That for once _he _wanted to come first, to have his dad drop everything and run to him, not drop him and run to check something out.

How could he tell his dad all of that? Easy answer, he couldn't. "You know what, never mind," Dean ended with a quick of one side of his mouth. "It doesn't matter."

"Good," John said, relieved that Dean wasn't going to question him more...and slightly guilty knowing that he had pushed Dean into a corner just so he didn't have to admit that the real reason it took him so long was because he was being a coward. "So, tell me more about Sam's girl."

* * *

I hope this met expectations. The next chapter will be chalk full of more Winchester family drama, so send in those reviews and I will get on it!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thanks for the wonderful reviews! As well as the favorites and the follows. Like I said before, I do have the rest of this story penned out, so it is just a matter of me getting the motivation to type and edit them.

Enjoy!

* * *

The next two days were spent in a stalemate between John and Sam, mostly through a careful limiting of the number of times their paths crossed. When they did end up in Dean's room together and couldn't think of an excuse to leave, Jess and Dean did their best to keep the conversation light; Dean fulfilling his old role of mediator and Jess slipping in to help him. It was clear to everyone in the room that neither John or Sam were comfortable with the situation, but they had been dealing with it well enough. That all ended on the afternoon of the third day.

Dean was finally allowed to get out of bed under the eyes of Linda and Dr. Fuller. Almost as if they knew that Dean would not want an audience to his pain and difficulties, the doctor kindly asked Jess, Sam and John to leave. Surprisingly, nothing happened while they were kicked out of the room. But, while they were waiting, Jess told Sam that she had to run out and call her family.

When John and Sam reentered Dean's room after sharing a silent cup of coffee, Dean's exhausted state was obvious. His face was pale and the only cheeky thing he could say when they walked in was that a 20-something nurse was going to give him a sponge bath later so they had better not stay long. They made light conversation, but it only took Dean ten minutes to succumb to the painkillers they had given him and pass out.

John honestly didn't know what to say to his youngest. However, there was an urge to break through the silence as it became stifling. John decided on asking the obvious question, "Where'd the girl go?"

"Her name's Jessica," Sam corrected, his voice irritated.

John remembered her name, had remembered it from when Dean first told him, but he didn't want Sam to figure out just how much he absorbed information about him.

"Fine," John conceded, "Where'd Jessica go?"

"She went to call her family," Sam tried to bite his tongue, but he couldn't help but slide in, "Unlike us, they actually call each other."

"Last time I checked, Sam, you weren't taking any calls from us," John responded, once again responding to Sam's bait.

"You never tried!" Sam cried out indignantly. He had thought many times about what he would do if his dad called, hundreds of times actually. Would he answer or would he just ignore him like he did with Dean? But, he never really needed to worry about it, because John never called.

"No," John agreed, "but your brother did." He motioned to the sleeping Dean. The world may think he only cared about Dean as a soldier, but he had a fiercely protective side when it came to his oldest and that came out in his next tirade. "Do you honestly think I never noticed him trying to get a hold of you? For months after you left he would take any spare minute he had and when he came back, even he couldn't hide the disappointment he felt. You yell at me for abandoning him, but you should look in a mirror before you start throwing that judgment around."

Sam fought his anger, but failed, "I may not have answered, but I came here when Caleb called."

John smiled, no warmth present in his next words, "Yeah? And just how long after Caleb called did you leave?" John knew he had struck a nerve when Sam clenched his jaw shut and a vein became visible.

"No comeback?" John prodded. "Can't admit it to yourself that you actually thought about leaving your brother here to fend for himself?" John asked, throwing some of his own self-loathing into the question.

"I still came," Sam finally ground out, "Before you did."

"Why does everything have to be a competition between us?" John sighed out tiredly. "Yes, you still came, and don't you think that might be a problem in the future with Jessica?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked wearily, unsure about this sudden shift back to Jess.

John shook his head, "You were raised to be a hunter, your family is full of hunters, it's in your blood and nothing is going to change that. If you want to keep her safe, the only thing you can do is leave." John had noticed the way she and Sam interacted, could tell that they were close and given time, the boy would probably ask her to marry him. Hell, she even seemed to get the Dean stamp of approval. But, his attempts to keep things away from Sam would only go so far. Eventually, something would come for Sam and if Jess was caught in the crossfire, she would be killed, or worse, get Sam killed trying to save her.

"I don't care what you think, I'm not leaving her," Sam put his foot down. However, his dad's words were playing on the worst of Sam's fears.

"You claim to care about her, but she doesn't even know the real you. If you told her the truth then she would be running for the hills. Either because she thought you were insane or because she was scared out of her mind," John predicted.

Glad to finally have a way to prove his dad wrong, Sam spoke before he thought about the ramifications of his hastily spoken words, "No, she wouldn't, because she already knows."

John's disbelief turned to anger within two seconds, "What the hell have you done?"

Sam tilted his chin up defiantly, "I told her everything and she's still here. You are wrong and I'm not leaving her."

John opened and closed his mouth, unable to form coherent thoughts. About to strangle his youngest for stupidity, John shoved his chair back and stormed out of the room before he could act on his desires.

* * *

"You could scare the paint off of the side of a house with that face of yours."

Sam snapped out of his thoughts long enough to consider the first words Dean had spoken, alerting him to the fact that he had come out of his drug induced sleep. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Sure it does," Dean's told him, his voice rough with sleep. "Because...wait, I may be drugged out of my mind, but you aren't going to distract me that easily. Now, what has put the look on your face?"

Sam fidgeted guiltily.

"Sammy?" Dean half ordered.

"I may have told dad that Jess knows," he answered vaguely.

"That Jess knows what?" Dean asked, being purposefully dense. "Because I know you aren't stupid enough to let dad in on the fact that you let your girlfriend in on the big family secret."

Sam didn't respond, but his facial expressions gave him away.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted in exasperation. "How thick can you get?"

Sam got defensive, "Technically, she didn't believe me until you said something, so you have a part in this as well!"

Dean gave him a droll look, "So, how'd he take it?"

It was Sam's turn to return Dean's look, "How do you think? I haven't seen him in two hours. I sent Jess back to the hotel so she wouldn't be here when he got back."

"Are you sure you should be here?" Dean asked seriously. "Or will it just start more fighting between you guys?"

Before Sam answered, the deep voice of their father cut in, "There won't be fighting, only listening."

"I don't have to..." Sam began, but was cut off again by John.

"Shut up, that wasn't an option, that was an order. Do you have any idea how stupid it was telling your girlfriend about us? How dangerous? What happens if you break up with her and she decides to give the cops an anonymous tip about how to find a trunk full of weapons? What if someone decides to start asking her questions about you and she doesn't think to hold back?"

"She's not stupid," Sam interjected. "She wouldn't do that."

"No, she's isn't and that makes it worse. By telling her, you have put us and her in more danger. There is a reason we keep what we do a secret."

Dean had remained quiet for the beginning part of John's lecture, because as much as he liked Jess, he agreed with many of the points his dad was making. But, he couldn't just throw Sam to the wolves, so he spoke up. "Dad, it wasn't just Sammy's fault, I could have convinced her that he was lying and I didn't."

"Damn it, Dean!" John turned on him. "What the _hell_ were you thinking?"

"I.."

"You weren't, that's what you were doing," John answered for him.

Sam couldn't take it, it was too similar to all the times that their dad had yelled at Dean for something that Sam had done wrong, running away, staying out past curfew, reading instead of working on his hand to hand. "It's not Dean's fault! There isn't even a fault at all."

"Yes, it is! Your brother has a chance to fix your screw-up and he didn't take it."

"Leave him out of this!" Sam hollered back.

"Guys, I'm sitting right here," Dean mentioned loudly, trying to get the attention back on him. But, as usual, they were too wrapped up in their argument to notice.

They continued to bicker back and forth until Sam finally acknowledged Dean, just not in a way Dean wanted. "Don't you have anything to say about this?"

"What do you want me to say?" Dean asked in confusion.

"Dean knows he should have convinced Jessica that there is no such thing as hunters and monsters, he knows I'm right." John's phone went off and he checked the id, "I have to get this. You need to fix this, Sam." With that, John left the room, lifting the phone to his ear as he left.

"Is that really what you think?" Sam asked Dean incredulously when he didn't refute John.

Dean could see where this conversation was going and he didn't like it one bit. "Sammy," he pleaded, "just drop it."

"I can't believe this!" Sam exclaimed. "You had no problem with Jess knowing until dad came along. Then, he tells you that you messed up and you just accept the blame. It's like we're kids all over again."

"What do you want from me?" Dean asked, his tone defensive. "Dad's right, Jess shouldn't know about us."

"No, you only think that because that's what he told you to think!" Sam claimed.

"Well, he happens to be right," Dean defended. "I can't help that."

"Ah!" Sam shouted non-sensically. "I can't take it. I can't sit around and watch you be the ever faithful son, especially when you know deep down that he is wrong!"

"So, what? You're just going to go back to Stanford?" Dean asked, already preparing himself.

"Yeah. Unless, for once, you can stand up to him and tell him he's wrong, " Sam gave Dean the ultimatum.

"Sammy," Dean sighed out, "don't make me choose between the two of you."

"I'm not," Sam argued.

"Yes, you are!" Dean countered, finally reaching his own breaking point. "One way or the other, one of you is leaving and you are making me decide who it will be."

"Fine! I'm making you decide. With him it is just more orders, but at least this way you would be able to make your own decisions."

It sure as hell didn't feel like he would be free to make his own decisions either way. Sammy may think that he offered freedom, but being around forced Dean into a corner just as much as being with his dad did. Sam would expect him to stop hunting, to be a different person, to follow the rules that he set down. And the sad part, Dean would probably try to conform to them, just in order to keep Sam happy. But, was it all worth it if he got to be around his brother. These past few days had been amazing...

_He'll leave you again._

A small voice popped into his head.

_He'll drop you the moment he is back at college. Then who will you have?_

_Isn't an absent father better than nothing? Better than no one?_

Dean fought through the sudden lightness of breath. Catching hold of his focal point, Dean's adams apple bobbed as he pushed out, "Dad's right, Sam. Being with Jess is dangerous and you should end it."

Silence...Sam didn't breathe as he took Dean's verdict in. Then, his anger rushed in, masking the empty feeling he suddenly had. "Fine." He said simply. "I hope you enjoy traveling around alone. The next time you end up in the hospital, don't bother calling me." Without a glance at Dean, afraid that he would change his mind if he did, Sam stormed over to the door and left. Only once Sam was out of the room did Dean let his head fall back and the tears escape.

As Sam left the hospital, he fought back the sudden onslaught of tears that had appeared, he saw the object of his anger. Instead of hurling abuses at him, Sam merely passed by John, his bitterness staining his words as he lashed out, "I hope you're happy. I'll be back in Palo Alto by tomorrow and you have your perfect soldier back." Without so much as a goodbye, Sam was gone, leaving a stunned John to figure out what happened.

* * *

"We're leaving," Sam ordered when he got to the hotel room.

"What?" Jess asked him confused. "Going where?"

"Home," Sam informed. "We're going home. Now."

"Sam, what happened?" Jess didn't understand, she knew that something was up by the way Sam had sent her away, but things didn't seem this bad.

"Jess!" Sam exclaimed, before calming slightly. "Dean made his decision, now we are going home."

"Okay," Jess agreed, trying to pacify him. "But, I have to go back to the hospital, my phone is there from earlier."

Jess made the walk to Dean's room, knowing that this was the last time. She had tried to convince Sam to stay, told him that his brother really did need him here, but Sam was adamant about leaving.

As she entered the room, Jess took note of Dean's dejected stare at the ugly picture in front of his bed. "Hey, Dean." She greeted slowly, almost as if she was dealing with a wounded animal she was afraid would bolt.

"Jess," he returned, without his usual flirty tone or warmth. He realized that it wasn't her fault, but a small part of him couldn't help but place some of the blame on her for the recent Winchester family drama. Or that could just be that he was jealous of the fact that Jess got to go home with Sammy.

Not used to this side of Dean, Jess pointed towards her cell and mumbled. "I...just needed to grab this."

Once it was in her hand, she turned to face Dean properly. "Look, Dean. I can't pretend to understand your family or what happened today, but I do know that Sam loves you and only wants the best for you."

She kept going even as she heard Dean's scoff of disbelief, "I am pretty sure that he is going to isolate himself again, but I wanted you to know that you can call me anytime. I'm not a Winchester, so I do not have to be involved in picking sides. You are a good man and if you need anything, even if it is just a friendly voice, please call."

"Don't you think your boyfriend will have a problem with that?" Dean spoke at length.

Jess smiled at him, glad to have gotten him to talk. "Sam doesn't own me, his family issues are his own. I can talk to whomever I want. And I hope you do call, I have a feeling that we could be good friends."

Dean bit the side of his cheek, the conversation getting a bit too...girly for his comfort. Dean covered up his discomfort by sending Jess a smile and, "Just admit it, you just want me."

Jess's laughter trickled around the room. "Fine, you've caught me. I had no idea I was being that transparent." Feeling like her job was completed once Dean joined in with a chuckle, Jess leaned down and carefully gave Dean a hug. She waited until he relaxed before she whispered in his ear, "_Please_ be careful, Dean. I don't want to get another call from Caleb saying you're in the hospital."

Dean swallowed hard, once again his eyes betraying him as they tried to tear. Jess couldn't be aware of how much that simple request meant. To have someone openly express their concern for his well being, to offer a no-strings attached offer to be a listening ear...Well, Caleb and Bobby had done their best, but truth was, they were just as bad with emotions as he was. He knew deep down that they would do just about anything for him, but knowing it and hearing it were two entirely different things. And here was Jess, only knowing him for a little over two weeks, part of which he was unconscious for, showing him that concern that his dad and Sam always seemed to forget about.

"Careful now," Dean's deep voice rumbled into her ear, "or I will actually start to think that you prefer me." However, his flirty quip was ruined by the way his uncasted arm tightened slightly, pulling her in closer and the way his breath shuddered slightly.

Dean enjoyed the feeling of warmth for a moment longer, he never took comfort from women. The last person he remembered had been his mother. Women were there to scratch an itch, he was meant to be mysterious and strong, not broken and in need of a hug. But, as Jess wrapped her arms around him, he remembered just how much a woman could comfort on an entirely plutonic level. Finally, he released his arm from around her, allowing her to pull back slightly.

"Take care of Sammy?" He asked. Even if the kid caused him a world of pain, Dean had to make sure that he would be okay.

"Always," Jess promised seriously, aware that Dean needed her reassurance that Sam would not be alone. "And you take care of yourself. I'm serious, call me anytime you need, for whatever reason."

Dean nodded softly, unable to break past his usual hold on his emotions to thank Jess properly. She seemed to understand as she leaned forward again and gave him a quick peck on his stubble graced cheek and withdrew with a gentle smile.

"I'll see you later," she told him, walking towards the door. As a parting comment she said, "And I programmed my number into your phone, so there's no excuse for you to not let me know that you're safe."

Dean smiled at her non-veiled hint. "Sounds good."

"Bye, Dean," she said with a final wave, reluctant to actually leave.

"Bye, Jess," Dean returned, giving her his own small wave of his hand as she left his room.

* * *

Please don't hate me! I really tried to get Sam and John to stay there together for longer, but when I considered their personalities and their decisions in the show, I couldn't force Sam to stay put. Let me know what you guys think though.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, I love seeing what you guys think of the story and where you want/think it will go next. I realized as I was typing this up that there is only one or two more chapters after this (depending on how it breaks up). I do have an ending planned, but I am thinking about posting an alternative one afterwards. I will leave that up to you guys when the time comes.

Enjoy!

* * *

John had remained outside after Sam had come up to him and said he was leaving. So, when Jessica had returned sans Sam, he waited for her to exit the hospital. He didn't pre-think what he was going to say, but he had the urge to say _something_. As she left, he noticed the torn look on her face and the fact that her eyes were red; that didn't stop him from approaching her though.

Jess didn't see him until she was right in front of him, blocked from her path by his large form. Her affection towards Sam and Dean did not extend to their dad; while she tried to play Devil's advocate when she was talking to them, secretly, she thought that John needed to get his act together. "John," she greeted coolly.

"Jessica," he returned.

"Did you want something?" She asked abruptly. "Sam and I are leaving and I don't want to make him wait any longer."

John wondered at this new attitude he was getting from her. She had been nice in every way since he had met her; this determined anger was something new. John may be accused of being emotionally stunted, but even he could see that this was Jess's protective side coming out. Protective of Sam, and if he wasn't mistaken, protective of Dean. He was glad to see that his boys had someone willing to go to bat for them so openly.

Not being able to show his own concern so easily, John hedged around the issue. "I take it that you aren't going to leave Sam, despite knowing that it would be for the best?"

Jess leveled him with a stony glare, "No, I'm not."

John didn't know if he should be impressed by her tenaciousness or annoyed of the threat that she posed. Regardless, he was glad that Sam had found someone so loyal to him. Honestly, the girl reminded him a lot of Mary, especially with this new stubbornness that she was showing. Clearing his throat and forcing his mind away from Mary, John ordered, "In that case, make sure you don't do anything stupid, and keep him out of trouble."

While Jess was not that well-versed at decoding John's hidden messages as well as she was Sam's, she took it to mean that John was worried about Sam and was hoping that she could look after him while he was gone. Even though she knew he didn't want her in Sam's life, she felt oddly warmed by the request...well, order. Sam might never see it, and John might do a horrible job at showing it, but she was sure that John really did care for his sons and only wanted what he thought was best for them. To have John ask her to look out for one of them, to trust her to do her best, actually made her feel slightly accepted by him.

Nodding, Jess promised, "I'll will, if you keep an eye out for Dean."

"I don't need you to tell me how..." John instantly jumped defensively, then he took a breath. He hoped that those boys understood just who they had fighting in their corner. It wasn't often people stood up to him, even less when they told him what to do. While he didn't appreciate the parenting advice, he could recognize where it was coming from. "Deal."

Jess studied him and then stuck out her hand. With an amused glint in his eyes, John reached out and took it. "Goodbye, John Winchester."

"Goodbye, Jessica Moore."

It wasn't until after Jessica had reached the hotel that she wondered how John knew her last name was Moore.

* * *

John was able to stay at St. Bartholomew's for another solid day, but even as Dean was starting to get used to the idea that his dad was sticking around, John strode into the room. Before John uttered a word, Dean instinctively knew that his dad was leaving; after all, he had a lifetime of these chats for reference.

"Hey, Ace," John threw out.

"Hey, Dad. What's up?" Dean asked, wanting to get straight to the issue. His dad never failed on that point.

"I got a call from another hunter, he has a lead for me over in Wyoming. I'm gonna go check it out. Are you going to be okay here?"

Dean plastered a fake smile on his face. At least his dad bothered to ask if he was going to be okay. "Of course, I'll be okay. I'm always okay."

As usual, John didn't delve into Dean's deeper thoughts, more content to accept Dean at face value because it suited his needs. But, he couldn't stop himself from hearing Jessica's final command, to keep an eye out for Dean, so he added, "Good, leave me a message when you get out of here and I'll get a hold of you when I'm done."

"Sounds good," Dean agreed in a similar tone to his previous statement...lying out of his ass.

"See ya later, Dean," his dad said with a final clap on the shoulder before hightailing it out of the hospital.

Dean looked up at the ugly picture in front of his bed once more and released a sigh. The thing was truly fugly. How in the world was that supposed to calm people? A cabin by the lake? That didn't mean peace and serenity; that meant their dad had taken them hunting for some bastard monster that lived in the woods. He hated the woods, he hated monsters, he hated hunting monsters in the woods. He hated cabins in the woods, because let's be honest, they never looked like this homey one; they were dank, they smelled, and he and Sam always ended up sleeping on some couch that looked like it belonged in the landfill. Worse, when one of them got hurt on the hunt and they were miles away from civilization. Adding the coppery smell of blood did nothing to improve the experience.

Dean didn't realize he had moved until he was shakily holding himself up in front of the picture. Bracing himself against the wall with one arm, Dean looked closer at the picture. Cabins didn't have nice fires in them to create a warm glow; they gave you a chill that set in so deep that you couldn't remember what it was like to be warm. No warmth, no happiness, no serenity came from cabins. It was a stupid picture, a stupid picture that failed to do its job...

Linda, the elderly nurse that was so fond of Dean looked up in alarm from her post at the nurse's station when she heard a loud crash coming from Dean's room. Worried that he had tried to get up on his own and fell down, Linda quickly hurried to his room, grabbing the arm of another nurse she passed in the process. When she looked into his room, she was dismayed by the sight.

Sliding down the wall to sit amongst the broken pieces of glass and wooden frame fragments, Dean ignored the frantic questions being shot at him by Linda and wondered, not for the first time, whether choosing his dad was the right decision.

* * *

_"Hey Dean! We haven't heard from you since we left the hospital. We just wanted to make sure that you were doing okay. Give us a call back!"_

Dean wiped the motel room towel across his face, roughly rubbing his skin even though he knew all of the sweat and blood had been washed away with the scalding hot shower he had just taken. It had been three months since he had been released from the hospital and two and half since he managed to get a hold of his dad. After a gruffly voiced, "Are you good to hunt?" Dean had been sent on a list of other cases.

Jess had left him a few messages, but despite the lonely nights and days on the road, and the desire to hear how she and Sam were doing, he never picked up and never called back.

He found it grimly humorous that she always said we, as if Sammy honestly knew or cared that she was calling. Normally, he would stave off the desire to hear a friendly voice with a good whiskey (or at least a lot of whiskey), but there was no rest for the wicked and John had already given him orders to follow another lead. So, he was hitting the road as soon as he tossed his things into the duffle bag laying on the bed.

* * *

_"Hey Dean! Happy Birthday! Have a great day and know that we are thinking of you!"_

Dean tossed back a shot with a slight grimace as he turned to look at the well-endowed blond sitting next to him. "So, Ashley."

"Vanessa," she corrected, her bright smile still in place. Who cared if he got her name wrong, he was fit. Besides, she wasn't looking for a future, only some fun.

"Right, silly me," Dean threw out some false self-deprecation and sent her a lecherous grin. "So, you were mentioning a room?"

* * *

_"Hey Dean, I was just hanging out with my brothers when I thought of you. I wish you would give me a call back. I'm worried about you."_

Jess hung up the phone with a long-winded sigh. The truth was, she was hanging out with her brothers and Sam. While Dean popped into her head quite often, she had really gotten the urge to call when she saw Sam and her two brothers laughing about some stupid joke. While Sam had appeared to be enjoying himself, it was different than when he had joked with Dean, not as comfortable.

At first, she had tried to get Sam to call Dean. Tried a hundred times, but each time it was the same answer. He couldn't, Dean had made his choice, he wouldn't encourage Dean's hunting lifestyle, nor would he put his life or her in jeopardy by letting hunting be a part of it.

It didn't help that Dean never responded to her calls. She tried to not bombard him with them, but still, she called at least once a month to leave a quick message. Her messages were now usually limited to a quick, "Hi, please call me back. Hope you're doing okay."

She had never thought it would be this difficult to deal with the Winchesters. She once thought her family could be stubborn, but they took it to a whole new level. If it wasn't for the occasional call to Caleb (who's number she had snuck off of Sam's phone), she wouldn't even know if Dean was still alive. Although, despite all of this, she was determined to stand by them and help in any way she could.

* * *

_"Hey Dean, I don't know if you still have this number, but I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Um...I hope you are taking care of yourself and that you find something non-dangerous to do today. My number is the same, feel free to call."_

Dean flicked the radio back on as the Impala roared down I-80.

Twenty-six, he was twenty-six years old. When the hell did that happen? It was his birthday and he was on his way to Nebraska...perhaps the last place he wanted to spend his birthday. But, as per usual, he was heading towards a job that his dad had put a rush order on.

He could count on one hand the number of people who had called today. Caleb, Bobby, Pastor Jim, his dad, and now Jess. And, seeing as his dad had called to send him on a new case and not to wish him a happy birthday, he didn't really think that one counted.

He wanted to answer all of Jess's calls, he really did...and that was exactly why he wouldn't. That, and Sammy. He couldn't stick his neck out there again. When had that ever gone over well? His own dad and brother couldn't be bothered with him, why the hell should he trust his brother's girl to care enough to stick around? Also, he knew Sammy's stance on the matter, knew that he wouldn't appreciate him talking to Jess. He wasn't stupid, he had realized that Jess had stopped saying 'we' in the messages awhile back, meaning she had given up the hope that Sam was going to come around.

It didn't matter anyways, he wasn't going to call, and he had more important things than silly chick issues to worry about.

* * *

_"Damn it, kid! Answer your fucking phone! I am tired of talking to a damn machine. I don't know why you have taken to ignoring me, but it had better stop. Now! Call me."_

Dean flipped out a fake FBI badge as he questioned a woman who claimed she had been curse by a voodoo priestess down in New Orleans. He had taken this job after his dad mentioned that it was in New Orleans. Wanting a change of scenery from his normal dirt and cornstalk plagued drives, Dean had eagerly hit the road. But, when he called to check in, his dad didn't answer. In fact, he hadn't answered or returned a call in almost a week. While it was not unusual for John to disappear off of the face of the planet, usually when Dean was on a case, he would make the effort to check in every once in a while. But this time, nothing.

Caleb's message had Dean admitting something he already knew, that he was ignoring people. Jess was already a given, but in the last two months, he had stopped answering Caleb and Bobby's calls as well, forcing them to leave messages. Really, his dad had been keeping him so busy that even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to keep in touch with everybody all the time. And, he really didn't want to. He was better off on his own, the last two years had taught him that. When he was hunting, he didn't have to answer to anyone, didn't have to worry about keeping anyone else safe...it was almost liberating. Sure, the road got lonely sometimes, but it was nothing a quick pick-me-up couldn't solve; preferably a leggy blond pick-me-up. So, he just stopped answering and figured if it was important enough, they would leave a message.

* * *

Another week went by and Dean heard nothing from his dad. He had finally broken down and gotten a hold of the usual suspects to see if they had heard something, but they had nothing either. He knew that his dad was heading to Jericho, California for a hunt, but he wasn't quite sure what he was hunting. If no one had heard from him and he wasn't answering any of his calls, then Dean was sure that something had happened to him on the hunt and he was determined to find out what. Once his decision was made, it took him less than ten minutes to have the Impala on the road.

He was pulled over for the night at the Starlight Motel in Texas when he began flipping through his phone, once again going towards his dad's name. Dean gave his dad a habitual call, knowing he wouldn't pick up for whatever reason. Deep down, he was sure that something had gone wrong on the hunt. As he ended the call, he noticed Jess's name right next to his dad's. Tossing his phone down with a shake of his head, Dean stood up and poured himself a glass of whiskey. Turning the tv on, Dean tried to relax enough to get a few hours of shut eye. However, for some reason, the latest infomercial on laundry detergent couldn't keep his mind from straying back to his phone.

"Ah, fuck it," Dean growled out, throwing the remote control onto the bed, snatching his phone up and hitting dial before he could change his mind.

* * *

Like with the last chapter, I hope you don't hate me too much. I really like the characters that Kripke has gifted us with and so I am trying to keep them in line with early season one..as much as I wish they would make other decisions sometimes. Please, let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: So, either the last chapter didn't go over well, or I just posted it at a bad time because it was seriously lacking on the reviews. That being said, a huge thank you to: agrove, What You See in the Shadows, babyreaper, caz21, and snseriesfan for the comments. And while I have greatly appreciated all of the reviews, I want to give a special thanks to snseriesfan and babyreaper who reviewed on every single chapter, as well as other continual reviewers like agrove, What You See in the Shadows, and it'ssamnotsammy. To have that support all the way through really pushed me to give you guys the best story I could think of.

That being said, this is the last chapter (unless there is a desire for an alternative ending). Besides a one-shot, this is actually the only story I have seen through to completion! It is an odd feeling because I really want to continue this. I have really enjoyed writing it, but from the start, this was always how I envisioned it ending. The ending actually popped in my head about two chapters in. I hope you all enjoy it and let me know what you think!

* * *

Jess fumbled around the nightstand as her phone jumped to life. Checking the alarm clock as she grabbed it, she wondered who in hell was calling just after two in the morning.

"Jess?" Sam's sleep roughened voice asked as he rolled towards her.

"I've got it," she responded before glancing at the glowing screen. She nearly dropped the phone in surprise. Taking a quick glance at Sam to make sure that he was going back to sleep, she snapped open her phone and hurriedly left the room, softly closing the door behind her.

"Dean?" She whispered, wanting to move further away from her shared room before she spoke normally.

"I..." Dean checked his watch when he heard how quiet she was being. "Shit, I had no idea it was this late. I'm sorry, I'll let you go back to sleep."

"No!" Jess said quickly. "Don't go. I'm glad you called." She had gone outside on the porch of the apartment, so she felt like she could talk normally. "How have you been, Dean?"

"I've," Dean tried to find a way to explain his evasion of her, but he couldn't so he stuck with the important facts. "I uh...I haven't heard from my dad in two weeks, he's on a hunting trip out in California and I was just...wondering if Sammy had heard anything."

"Sam hasn't spoken to your dad since..." She let Dean fill in the blank. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not unless you can magic eight ball me an answer as to what happened to my dad," Dean grumbled out, running a hand across his face. "I'm sorry I called, I didn't mean to bother you. I just didn't know who else to call."

"Like I said, I'm glad you did. I have been really worried about you," Jess told him honestly.

"You don't have to worry about me. I'm alright, I'm always alright," Dean reassured.

Jess didn't bother to refute his claim because she had a feeling that the lie was just as much for his benefit as it was for hers. "Look Dean. You said your dad was on a hunt in California, why don't you stop by here and see if Sam can help you?"

Dean scoffed, "Sammy won't help me, he's made that perfectly clear."

"He may surprise you. Besides, I'll make you cookies if you stop by." She promised, trying to keep Dean from getting uncomfortable with the conversation.

"I can't Jess. If he says no..."

"He won't," Jess promised, even though she had no idea how she would make it happen. "I know he's missed you and even if he has said horrible things in the past, he will still do whatever he can to help you."

"I don't know," Dean hesitated. Internally he berated himself; he sounded like a freaking girl. When the hell did he become incapable of manning up?

"Dean, you could use the help. Besides, I have missed seeing my self-proclaimed favorite Winchester," she teased.

The phone remained silent for a minute and then, "Okay, I'm in Kerrville, Texas right now. I'll be out there in a couple of days."

"Good," Jess breathed out, relieved that Dean was to come. "Drive safely, I want you here in one piece."

"I will," he promised, "Bye, Jess."

"Bye, Dean."

* * *

Jess meant to tell Sam that Dean was coming, she really did. But, he got his LSAT scores back and then they went out to celebrate. Like every year, he was not thrilled about it being Halloween and now that she knew why, Jess spent extra time making sure he was okay. And frankly, she thought she would have at least one more day before Dean showed up.

However, as she heard a scuffle break out in the living room, Jess was woken with the suspicion that she was out of time. Those suspicions were confirmed when she made her way to the living room and heard Sam demand, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Okay, alright, we gotta talk," Dean informed him, all traces of the vulnerability she had heard in his voice gone.

"Uh, the phone?" Sam asked as if Dean was dimwitted.

"If I'd a called, would you've picked up?" Dean countered.

Jess didn't wait any longer, she had been hoping that the first meeting of the brothers would go better on its own, but apparently not. Flipping on the light, Jess entered the room, aware of both boys simultaneously whipping around to stare at her.

"Hello," Dean said slowly, his eyes teasing as he gave her a quick once over. "I love the smurfs," he told her, pointing at her chest.

Shaking her head in amusement over Dean's antics, her mouth broke into a smile as she quickly entered the room and wrapped Dean in a hug. With an audience, Dean was less comfortable with the open display of affection, but he accepted it nonetheless. "It's good to see you," she whispered in his ear before she pulled back and turned to Sam. "I told him to come."

"What? Why?" Sam asked in confusion.

Dean stepped in, "Dad's missing and I haven't been able to get a hold of him."

"So?" Sam asked, "He's probably working over time on a Miller time shift, he'll stumble back in sooner or later."

"Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days," Dean clarified.

Sam expression changed from uncaring to serious in seconds. "Excuse us, Jess."

"Sam," Jess tried, but was left unacknowledged as Sam spun away from her and went towards the apartment door. Dean met her eyes with a small shrug and followed after his brother.

Taking the lead, Dean led Sam down the stairs towards the Impala. He knew it was only a matter of time before Sam started in. And in true Sam form, he didn't disappoint on this.

"What the hell, Dean?" Sam asked angrily as they jogged down the steps. "I told you I didn't want anything to do with hunting and I certainly don't want Jess involved."

"What was I supposed to do, Sammy? Dad's missing, I needed your help." Okay, so Dean probably didn't need his help, but he certainly wanted it.

Sam shook his head, "No, you don't. You could do this on your own."

"Yeah," Dean admitted ruefully, "but I don't want to."

Sam hesitated, it wasn't often that his brother reached out like this, admitted that he needed or wanted someone around. That was probably why he stayed to listen to the work Dean had done to find their dad so far. But, at the end of it, he couldn't do it, he had an interview on Monday, he had the rest of his life planned out; running off right now just wasn't going to happen.

"Come on, Sammy," Dean nearly pleaded. "This is dad."

"Dad can take care of himself," Sam insisted.

Dean was about to respond but abruptly changed his mind. "Okay, you don't want to help, that's fine. I'll find him on my own. I'll be staying at Pacific View until tomorrow morning if you change your mind." Dean moved the shotgun that was holding the secret compartment in the trunk open and let it slam shut. He then stalked over to the driver's side and was off before Sam could register the change in Dean's mood.

Returning to the apartment, Sam was immediately set upon by Jess. "Where's Dean?" she asked instantly.

"Gone," he replied shortly. He was going to leave it at that, but he was annoyed with her. "That phone call the other night, that was him, wasn't it?"

Jess steeled herself against his anger and tilted her chin up in defiance. It was times like that she hated their height difference. "Yes, it was."

"Jess!" Sam exclaimed in exasperation. "I thought I told you I didn't want anything to do with...that life." He had been about to say Dean, but even in his anger he knew that was going too far.

"Well, guess what, Sam," Jess's own anger rose. "You don't get to tell me who I can talk to!"

"You don't understand! It's dangerous, you could get hurt!"

"Sam, I could get hurt crossing the street! He's your brother, do you not remember the last time that you saw him he was in a hospital? For two years he has left you alone, hasn't asked you for anything, hasn't answered my calls, or called me. Don't you think that means this is pretty serious? That he is really worried about your dad?"

Sam's anger deflated as he considered Jess's questions. It was true that Dean had left them alone. He had even waited for two weeks while his dad was missing before calling. It wasn't like this was a common occurrence. "I just...I don't want you to get hurt."

Jess walked up to him and put her arms around his neck, waiting until he wrapped his arms around her waist before saying, "I know, Sam. But, I am not the only one who needs you. He will never say it, but Dean does too...probably as much as you need him."

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but Jess unwrapped an arm in order to put a finger to his lips, "You can deny it all you want, but you need him. I saw the way you two interacted in the hospital. When you are together, something just clicks and it's like the two of you could take on the world."

"What if something happens to you?" Sam asked, resting his forehead against hers.

"I'll be fine. I'll call everyday and let you know I'm okay," Jess promised. "But, you need to do this."

* * *

Dean grimaced as he drank the cup of coffee he had brewed using the motel room's coffee pot. If possible, this was worse than gas station coffee, and that was saying something. It had taken him a while to fall asleep, once again turning to infomercials for sound in the motel room as he hoped that Sammy would show up, but he hadn't. So, Dean was working on less than three hours of crappy sleep and he would take the caffeine, regardless of how nasty it was.

Running his customary glance around the room to make sure that he wasn't leaving anything behind, Dean slung his duffle over his shoulder and left the room. Throwing the bag in the trunk, Dean slid into the Impala and studied the map that was sitting on the passenger side of the car. He already knew his route, having mapped it out extensively the night before, but it was one of his habits that he couldn't break.

Involved in the map, Dean didn't bother looking up as a silver car pulled up alongside him until he heard his name being called.

Turning in surprise, Dean opened his door and stepped out, genuinely shocked to see Jess and Sam getting out of the Civic.

"I'm in," Sam confirmed as he walked around the car, pausing to grab his own bag from the backseat. "But, I have to be back before Monday."

"No problem," Dean agreed to his condition, still stunned that Sam had shown.

Jess stepped up to Sam when he reached her side and gave him a hug, followed by a kiss that had Dean smirking. "Be safe," she ordered as she pulled back. "I love you."

"I love you too," Sam whispered back. "I'll be back soon, try to avoid burning down the apartment while I am gone."

Jess slapped his arm lightly, "It was one batch of cookies."

"Our apartment smelled horrible for days," Sam argued, accepting the slap with a teasing smile.

He gave her another quick peck goodbye and let her pull away to walk over to Dean.

"Bring him home in one piece, okay?" Jess half requested, half ordered.

Dean nodded, it was always his job to look after Sam, he wasn't going to stop now.

Jess continued, much to Dean's surprise, even though it probably shouldn't be at this point. "Bring yourself back in one piece as well. I don't want to spend another two weeks in a hospital watching you milk your injuries to pick up hot nurses."

Dean chuckled, "I'll do my best." He told her, once again warmed that she cared enough about him to express concern and demand his safety.

Reaching up, Jess gave Dean a hug, making sure he hugged her back. As she pulled back, Dean quipped, "What? I don't get a kiss?"

Sam shot him an unamused look, but Jess just laughed, stood on her toes, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "There, now get going so you can get back."

Jess waited until they were both settled into the Impala, gave them a wave goodbye and then got into the car that she and Sam had bought after they had gotten back to Palo Alto. She was determined to make the best chocolate chip cookies Sam and Dean had ever tasted, even if it took her all weekend.

* * *

"You know, we made a pretty good team," Dean mentioned as he leaned over in the seat to look out the window.

"Yeah, we did," Sam agreed, sounding kind of surprised at the revelation.

"Well...tell Jess bye for me," Dean requested. He wasn't really looking for a chick-flick moment and Sam had made it pretty clear that he didn't want Dean to be involved right now.

"I will," Sam promised him before giving a final wave goodbye and heading towards his apartment.

* * *

Dean was about two blocks away from Sam's apartment when he tried to switch on the radio, already unused to the silence. As the radio crackled, a feeling of foreboding hit him, he couldn't explain how he knew, but he was sure this had something to do with Sam. He immediately turned the Impala around and floored it back towards the apartment.

By the time he reached the apartment, there was smoke rolling out of the upstairs windows and he could see the flames licking out of them.

"Sammy!" He shouted and ran headlong into the building, ignoring the cries of the bystanders trying to stop him.

Kicking in their front door, Dean made his way through the apartment. "Sammy! Jess!" He covered his face with the sleeve of his jacket and entered their bedroom.

"Jess! No!" He heard Sam shouting as he saw his brother's gaze fixed to the ceiling as burning bits of the apartment were falling down on them.

Following Sam's gaze, Dean was frozen by the sight of Jess's burning body pinned to the ceiling. He made to move towards her before his mind reminded him that there was nothing he could do to help her, but he could still get Sam out.

"Sammy!" He sprang into action once more and grabbed his brother's arms. "Come on, we gotta go!"

"No!" Sam fought against him, determined to get to her.

"Sam! It's too late, we have to leave!" Realizing that Sam was beyond listening to him, he began to bodily push him out of the apartment.

Even once they were outside, Sam fought against him, trying to return to Jess.

"Let me go!" Sam yelled irrationally, trying to take a swing at Dean. "Dean, let me go!"

Dean ducked under the wild swing and brought his body closer to Sam, forcing him to go ever farther away from the burning building. "It's okay. It's going to be okay, Sammy," Dean continually told him as he ignored the hits that kept raining down on his back...as well as the insults and blame that were pouring out of Sam.

"This _-hit-_ is _-hit-_ all _-hit-_ your -_hit_- fault!" Sam accused, tears pouring down his face. The bystanders and firefighters were too busy to notice the two men slowly making their way from the fire. "I -_hit-_ hate -_hit-_ you!"

"I know, Sammy," Dean said in the same soft tone. Dean didn't falter as Sam's hits morphed into clutching at his jacket, desperately trying to find something to ground him.

"Dean," Sam begged, wanting his big brother to fix it like he always did.

"It's okay, I've got you," Dean reassured as he felt Sam breaking down in his arms. "It's gonna be okay." As silent tears fell down his own cheeks, Dean held his brother as he mourned the loss of the girl he loves. But, despite his promises, he didn't really know if Sam would be okay.

* * *

Dean and Sam were holed up in a nearby motel while everything was being dealt with. Dean had to wait while the police questioned Sam about the fire. It was determined that the fire was caused by a leaky gas line that had combusted and caused an explosion. It then took a few more days for the arrangements for Jess's funeral to be made. Dean tried to convince Sam to go, but he adamantly refused, telling him that he couldn't face her family since it was his fault she was dead.

Later on the day of the funeral, Sam made his way to her grave and said his goodbyes. When he returned to the motel, he did not say anything to Dean, but wordlessly took the bottle of whiskey that he offered.

The next morning, while Sam was still passed out from drinking, Dean snuck out of the room and made his way to Alta Mesa Memorial Park, the cemetery Jess was buried in. Walking up to the newly dug grave, Dean shuffled back and forth on his feet. Clearing his throat he began hesitantly.

"I'm not very good at this," he admitted sheepishly, running a hand on the back of his neck. "In fact, I've never tried. I don't believe in some better place and my only experience with spirits has been to uh...send them on," he ended awkwardly.

"But, if you can hear me, I want to thank you for looking out for Sammy when I couldn't be there for him. I know he can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you stuck by him. Also, thanks for giving me back Sammy. If you hadn't pushed the two of us, I don't think we would have ever gotten to this point. I promise that I will look after Sam, god knows that he needs someone to keep him out of trouble. So yeah...goodbye, Jessica. I really hope I am wrong about the whole better place thing."

Dean made it twenty feet away before he spun around and rushed back, his voice nearly breaking. "I'm sorry," he said seriously. "I'm a selfish son of a bitch and I'm sorry."

He bit out, "You burnt to death on a god damn ceiling, and some part of me...It's just...as horrible as it is, I'm just glad that I don't have to be alone anymore." He ended quietly.

Touching his hand to the headstone in a final goodbye, Dean turned from Jess's grave and made his way back to his waiting brother.

* * *

A/N: Well, that's all. I will be waiting for the next SPN plot bunny to pop into my head and in the mean time, I would love to hear what you guys thought of this. I also wouldn't mind reaching 100 reviews! Thanks again for being such amazing readers!


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